FAITH 


MARGARET  E. 
SANGSTER 


The  Island  of  Faith 


OP  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


love  Lily,"  he  told  her,  "I  wouldn't  let  nobody 
touch  Lily!  " 


The  Island  of  Faith 


By 
MARGARET  E.  SANGSTER 

ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK  CHICAGO 

Fleming     H.     Revell     Com  pan) 

LONDON       AND       EDINBURGH 


Copyright,  1921,  by 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago:  17  North  Wabash  Ave. 
London:  at  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh:  75  Princes  Street 


To  M's  M- 
and  Chance 


213S6R4 


Contents 

I.  INTRODUCING— THE   SETTLEMENT 

HOUSE     .        .        .  .      ii 

II.  THE  QUARREL      .        .        .        .13 

III.  CONCERNING  IDEALS    .        .        .      20 

IV.  THE  PARK 31 

V.  ROSE-MARIE  COMES  TO  THE  RES- 

CUE          35 

VI.  «  THERE'S  No  PLACE "         .  44 

VII.  A  LILY  IN  THE  SLUMS          .        .  57 

VIII.  ANOTHER  QUARREL  61 

IX.  AND  ANOTHER    ....  70 

X.  MRS.  VOLSKY  PROMISES  TO  TRY  .  83 

XI.  BENNIE  COMES  TO  THE  SETTLE- 

MENT HOUSE   ....      89 

XII.  AN  ISLAND          .        .  .  .95 

XIII.  ELLA  MAKES  A  DECISION  .  .     109 

XIV.  PA  STEPS  ASIDE  .        .  .  .     121 

XV.  A  SOLUTION          .  .  .126 

XVI.  ENTER— JIM        .        .  .  .137 

XVII.  AN  ANSWER       .        .  .  .145 

XVIII.  AND  A  MIRACLE          .  .  .     161 

XIX.  AND  THE  HAPPY  ENDING  .  .171 


INTRODUCING— THE   SETTLEMENT' 
HOUSE 

THERE  is  a  certain  section  of  New 
York  that  is  bounded  upon  the  north 
by  Fourteenth  Street,  upon  the  south 
by  Delancy.  Folk  who  dwell  in  it  seldom  stray 
farther  west  than  the  Bowery,  rarely  cross  the 
river  that  flows  sluggishly  on  its  eastern  bor- 
der. They  live  their  lives  out,  with  something 
that  might  be  termed  a  feverish  stolidity,  in  the 
dim  crowded  flats,  and  upon  the  thronged 
streets. 

To  the  people  who  have  homes  on  Central 
Park  West,  to  the  frail  winged  moths  who 
flutter  up  and  down  Broadway,  this  section 
does  not  exist.  Its  poor  are  not  the  pictur- 
esque poor  of  the  city's  Latin  quarter,  its 
criminals  seldom  win  to  the  notoriety  of  a 
front  page  and  inch-high  headlines;  it  almost 
never  produces  a  genius  for  the  world  to  smile 
upon — its  talent  does  not  often  break  away 
from  the  undefined,  but  none  the  less  certain, 
limits  of  the  district. 

It  is  curious  that  this  part  of  town  is  seldom 
featured  in  song  or  story,  for  it  is  certainly 
neither  dull  nor  unproductive  of  plot.  The 
tenements  that  loom,  canyon-like,  upon  every 
side  are  filled  to  overflowing  with  human 


12  THE  ISLAND  OP  FAITH 

drama ;  and  the  stilted  little  parks  are  so  teem- 
ing with  romances,  of  a  summer  night,  that 
only  the  book  of  the  ages  would  be  big  enough 
to  hold  them — were  they  written  out!  Life 
beats,  like  some  great  wave,  up  the  dim  alley- 
ways— it  breaks,  in  a  shattered  tide,  against 
rock-like  doorways.  The  music  of  a  street 
band,  strangely  sweet  despite  its  shrillness, 
rises  triumphantly  above  the  tumult  of  pave- 
ment vendors,  the  crying  of  babies,  the  shout- 
ing of  small  boys,  and  the  monotonous  voices 
of  the  womenfolk. 

In  almost  the  exact  center  of  this  district  is 
the  Settlement  House — a  brown  building  that 
is  tall  and  curiously  friendly.  Between  a  great 
hive-like  dwelling  place  and  a  noisy  dance-hall 
it  stands  valiantly,  like  the  soldier  of  God  that 
it  is!  And  through  its  wide-open  doorway 
come  and  go  the  girls  who  will  gladly  squander 
a  week's  wage  for  a  bit  of  satin  or  a  velvet 
hat;  the  shabby,  dull-eyed  women  who,  two 
years  before,  were  care-free  girls  themselves; 
the  dreamers — and  the  ones  who  have  never 
learned  to  dream.  For  there  is  something 
about  the  Settlement  House — and  about  the 
tiny  group  of  earnest  people  who  are  the  heart 
of  the  Settlement  House — that  is  like  a  warm 
hand,  stretched  out  in  welcome  to  the  poor  and 
the  needy,  to  the  halt  in  body  and  the  maimed 
in  soul,  and  to  the  casual  passer-by. 


II 

THE  QUARREL 

"f  I  THEY'RE  like  animals,"  said  the 
Young  Doctor  in  the  tone  of  one 
-*•  who  states  an  indisputable  fact. 
"Only  worse!"  he  added. 

Rose-Marie  laid  down  the  bit  of  roll  that 
she  had  been  buttering  and  turned  reproachful 
eyes  upon  the  Young  Doctor. 

"Oh,  but  they're  not,"  she  cried;  "you 
don't  understand,  or  you  wouldn't  talk  that 
way.  You  don't  understand !  " 

Quite  after  the  maddening  fashion  of  men 
the  doctor  did  not  answer  until  he  had  con- 
sumed, and  appreciatively,  the  last  of  the  roll 
he  was  eating.  And  then — 

"  I've  been  here  quite  as  long  as  you  have, 
Miss  Thompson,"  he  remarked,  a  shade  too 
gently. 

The  Superintendent  raised  tired  eyes  from 
her  plate.  She  was  little  and  slim  and  gray, 
this  Superintendent;  it  seemed  almost  as 
though  the  slums  had  drained  from  her  the  life 
and  colour. 


14  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

"  When  you've  been  working  in  this  section 
for  twenty  years,"  she  said  slowly,  "you'll 
realize  that  nobody  can  ever  understand. 
You'll  realize  that  we  all  have  animal  traits — 
to  a  certain  extent.  And  you'll  realize  that 
quarrelling  isn't  ever  worth  while." 

"  But " — Rose-Marie  was  inclined  to  argue 
the  point — "but  Dr.  Blanchard  talks  as 
if  the  people  down  here  are  scarcely  human! 
And  it's  not  right  to  feel  so  about  one's  fellow- 
men.  Dr.  Blanchard  acts  as  if  the  people  down 
here  haven't  souls! " 

The  Young  Doctor  helped  himself  non- 
chalantly to  a  second  roll. 

"  There's  a  certain  sort  of  a  little  bug  that 
lives  in  the  water,"  he  said,  "and  it  drifts 
around  aimlessly  until  it  finds  another  little 
bug  that  it  holds  on  to.  And  then  another 
little  bug  takes  hold,  and  another,  and 
another.  And  pretty  soon  there  are  hun- 
dreds of  little  bugs,  and  then  there  are  thou- 
sands, and  then  there  are  millions,  and  then 
billions,  and  then " 

The  Superintendent  interrupted  wearily. 

"  I'd  stop  at  the  billions,  if  I  were  you,"  she 
said,  "  particularly  as  they  haven't  any  special 
bearing  on  the  subject." 

"  Oh,  but  they  have,"  said  the  doctor,  "  for, 
after  a  while,  the  billions  and  trillions  of  little 


THE  QUAEEEL  15 

bugs,  clinging  together,  make  an  island.  They 
haven't  souls,  perhaps,"  he  darted  a  triumphant 
glance  at  Rose-Marie,  "  but  they  make  an 
island  just  the  same !  " 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  waiting  for 
some  sort  of  comment.  When  it  did  not  come, 
he  spoke  again. 

"The  people  of  the  slums,"  he  said,  "the 
people  who  drift  into,  and  out  of,  and  around 
this  Settlement  House,  are  not  very  unlike  the 
little  bugs.  And,  after  all,  they  do  help  to 
make  the  city!" 

There  was  a  quaver  in  Rose-Marie's  voice, 
and  a  hurt  look  in  her  eyes,  as  she  answered. 

"Yes,  they  are  like  the  little  bugs,"  she 
said,  "  in  the  blind  way  that  they  hold  to- 
gether! But  please,  Dr.  Blanchard,  don't  say 
they  are  soulless.  Don't " 

All  at  once  the  Young  Doctor's  hand  was 
banging  upon  the  table.  All  at  once  his  voice 
was  vehemently  raised. 

"It's  the  difference  in  our  point  of  view, 
Miss  Thompson,"  he  told  Rose-Marie,  "and 
I'm  afraid  that  I'm  right  and  that  you're — not 
right.  You've  come  from  a  pretty  little  coun- 
try town  where  every  one  was  fairly  comfort- 
able and  fairly  prosperous.  You've  always 
been  a  part  of  a  community  where  people  went 
to  church  and  prayer-meeting  and  Sunday- 


16  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

school.  Your  neighbours  loved  each  other, 
and  played  Pollyanna  when  things  went  wrong. 
And  you  wore  white  frocks  and  blue  sashes 
whenever  there  was  a  lawn  party  or  a  so- 
ciable." He  paused,  perhaps  for  breath,  and 
then — "  I'm  different,"  he  said ;  "  I  struggled 
for  my  education;  it  was  always  the  survival 
of  the  fittest  with  me.  I  worked  my  way 
through  medical  school.  I  had  my  hospital 
experience  in  Bellevue  and  on  the  Island- 
most  of  my  patients  were  the  lowest  of  the 
low.  I've  tried  to  cure  diseased  bodies — but 
I've  left  diseased  minds  alone.  Diseased 
minds  have  been  out  of  my  line.  Perhaps 
that's  why  I've  come  through  with  an  ideal  of 
life  that's  slightly  different  from  your  sunshine 
and  apple  blossoms  theory !  " 

"  Oh,"  Rose-Marie  was  half  sobbing,  "  oh, 
you're  so  hard !  " 

The  Young  Doctor  faced  her  suddenly  and 
squarely.  "Why  did  you  come  here,"  he 
cried,  "  to  the  slums  ?  Why  did  you  come  to 
work  in  a  Settlement  House?  What  qualifi- 
cations have  you  to  be  a  social  service  worker, 
you  child  ?  What  do  you  know  of  the  mean- 
ing of  service,  of  life?  " 

Rose-Marie's  voice  was  earnest,  though 
shaken. 

"  I  came,"  she  answered,  "  because  I  love 


THE  QUAEEEL  17 

people  and  want  to  help  them.  I  came  because 
I  want  to  teach  them  to  think  beautiful 
thoughts,  to  have  beautiful  ideals.  I  came  be- 
cause I  want  to  show  them  the  God  that  I 
know — and  try  to  serve "  she  faltered. 

The  Young  Doctor  laughed — but  not  pleas- 
antly. 

"And  I,"  he  said,  "came  to  make  their 
bodies  as  healthy  as  possible.  I  came  because 
curing  sick  bodies  was  my  job — not  because  I 
loved  people  or  had  any  particular  faith  in 
them.  Prescribing  to  criminals  and  near- 
criminals  isn't  a  reassuring  work;  it  doesn't 
give  one  faith  in  human  nature  or  in  human 
souls!" 

The  Superintendent  had  been  forgotten. 
But  her  tired  voice  rose  suddenly  across  the 
barrier  of  speech  that  had  grown  high  and  icy 
between  the  Young  Doctor  and  Rose-Marie. 

"  You  both  came,"  she  said,  and  she  spoke  in 
the  tone  of  a  mother  of  chickens  who  has 
found  two  young  and  precocious  ducklings  in 
her  brood,  "  you  both  came  to  help  people — of 
that  I'm  sure!" 

Rose-Marie  started  up,  suddenly,  from  the 
table. 

"  I  came,"  she  said,  as  she  moved  toward 
the  door  that  led  to  the  hall,  "  to  make  people 
better." 


18  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

"And  I,"  said  the  Young  Doctor,  moving 
away  from  the  table  toward  the  opposite  side 
of  the  room  and  another  door,  "  I  came  to 
make  them  healthier !  "  With  his  hand  on  the 
knob  of  the  door  he  spoke  to  the  Superintend- 
ent. 

"  I'll  not  be  back  for  supper,"  he  said 
shortly,  "  I'll  be  too  busy.  Giovanni  Celleni 
is  out  of  jail  again,  and  he's  thrown  his  wife 
down  a  flight  of  stairs.  She'll  probably  not 
live.  And  while  Minnie  Cohen  was  at  the 
vaudeville  show  last  night — developing  her 
soul,  perhaps — her  youngest  baby  fell  against 
the  stove.  Well,  it'll  be  better  for  the  baby  if 

it  does  die !  And  there  are  others "  The 

door  slammed  upon  his  angry  back. 

Rose-Marie's  face  was  white  as  she  leaned 
against  the  dark  wainscoting. 

"  Minnie  Cohen  brought  the  baby  in  last 
week,"  she  shuddered,  "  such  a  dear  baby ! 
And  Mrs.  Celleni— she  tried  so  hard !  Oh,  it's 

not  right "  She  was  crying,  rather  wildly, 

as  she  went  out  of  the  room. 

The  Superintendent,  left  alone  at  the  table, 
rang  for  the  stolid  maid.  Her  voice  was  care- 
fully calm  as  she  gave  orders  for  the  evening 
meal.  If  she  was  thinking  of  Giovanni  Cel- 
leni, his  brute  face  filled  with  semi-madness; 
if  she  was  thinking  of  a  burned  baby,  sobbing 


THE  QUAEEEL  19 

alone  in  a  darkened  tenement  while  its  mother 
breathlessly  watched  the  gay  colours  and  shift- 
ing scenes  of  a  make-believe  life,  her  expres- 
sion did  not  mirror  her  thought.  Only  once 
she  spoke,  as  she  was  folding  her  napkin,  and 
then — 

"  They're  both  very  young,"  she  murmured, 
a  shade  regretfully.  Perhaps  she  was  remem- 
bering the  enthusiasm — and  the  intolerance — 
of  her  own  youth. 


Ill 

CONCERNING  IDEALS 


and  apple  blossoms!" 
Rose-Marie,  hurrying  along  the  hall  to 
her  own  room,  repeated  the  Young 
Doctor's  words  and  sobbed  afresh  as  she  re- 
peated them.  She  tried  to  tell  herself  that 
nothing  he  could  think  mattered  much  to  her, 
but  there  was  a  certain  element  of  truth  in 
everything  that  he  had  said.  It  was  a  fact 
that  her  life  had  been  an  unclouded,  peaceful 
one  —  her  days  had  followed  each  other  as  reg- 
ularly, as  innocuously,  as  blue  china  beads, 
strung  upon  a  white  cord,  follow  each  other. 

Of  course,  she  told  herself,  she  had  never 
known  a  mother  ;  and  her  father  had  died  when 
she  was  a  tiny  girl.  But  she  was  forced  to 
admit  —  as  she  had  been  forced  to  admit  many 
times  —  that  she  did  not  particularly  feel  the 
lack  of  parents.  Her  two  aunts,  that  she  had 
always  lived  with,  had  been  everything  to  her 
—  they  had  indulged  her,  had  made  her  pretty 
frocks,  had  never  tried,  in  any  way,  to  block 
the  Teachings  of  her  personality.  When  she 
ao 


CONCEENING  IDEALS  21 

had  decided  suddenly,  fired  by  the  convincing 
address  of  a  visiting  city  missionary,  to  leave 
the  small  town  of  her  birth,  they  had  put  no 
obstacle  in  her  path. 

"If  you  feel  that  you  must  go,"  they  had 
told  her,  "you  must.  Maybe  it  is  the  work 
that  the  Lord  has  chosen  for  you.  We  have 
all  faith  in  you,  Rose-Marie !  " 

And  Rose-Marie,  splendid  in  her  youth  and 
assurance,  had  never  known  that  their  pillows 
were  damp  that  night — and  for  many  another 
night — with  the  tears  that  they  were  too  brave 
to  let  her  see. 

They  had  packed  her  trunk,  folding  the 
white  dress  and  the  blue  sash — Rose-Marie 
wondered  how  the  Young  Doctor  had  known 
about  the  dress  and  sash — in  tissue  paper. 
They  had  created  a  blue  serge  frock  for  work, 
and  a  staunch  little  blue  coat,  and  a  blue 
tam-o'-shanter.  Rose-Marie  would  have  been 
aghast  to  know  how  childish  she  looked  in  that 
tam-o'-shanter !  Her  every-day  shoes  had  been 
resoled;  her  white  ruffled  petticoats  had  been 
lengthened.  And  then  she  had  been  launched, 
like  a  slim  little  boat,  upon  the  turbulent  sea  of 
the  city! 

Looking  back,  through  a  mist  of  angry 
tears,  Rose-Marie  felt  her  first  moment  of 
homesickness  for  the  friendly  little  town  with 


22  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

its  wide,  tree-shaded  streets,  its  lawn  parties, 
and  its  neighbours;  cities,  she  had  discovered, 
discourage  the  art  of  neighbouring!-  She  felt 
a  pang  of  emptiness — she  wanted  her  aunts 
with  their  soft,  interested  eyes,  and  their  ten- 
der hands. 

At  first  the  city  had  thrilled  her.  But  now 
that  she  had  been  in  the  Settlement  House  a 
month,  the  thrill  was  beginning  to  die  away. 
The  great  buildings  were  still  unbelievably 
high,  the  crowds  of  people  were  still  a  strange 
and  mysterious  throng,  the  streets  were  as  col- 
ourful as  ever — but  life,  nevertheless,  was  be- 
ginning to  settle  into  ordinary  channels. 

She  had  thought,  at  the  beginning  of  her 
stay  there,  that  the  Settlement  House  was  a 
hotbed  of  romance.  Every  ring  of  the  door- 
bell had  tingled  through  her ;  every  step  in  the 
hall  had  made  her  heart  leap,  with  a  strange 
quickening  movement,  into  her  throat — every 
shabby  man  had  been  to  her  a  possible  tragedy, 
every  threadbare  woman  had  been  a  case  for 
charity.  She  had  fluttered  from  reception-hall 
to  reading-room,  and  back  again — she  had 
been  alert,  breathless,  eager. 

But,  with  the  assignment  of  regular  duties, 
some  of  the  adventure  had  been  drained  from 
life.  For  her  these  consisted  of  teaching  a 
club  of  girls  to  sew,  of  instructing  a  group  of 


CONCEENING  IDEALS  23 

mothers  in  the  art  of  making  cakes  and  pies 
and  salads,  and  of  hearing  a  half  hundred  little 
children  repeat  their  A  B  C's.  Only  the  dif- 
ference in  setting,  only  the  twang  of  foreign 
tongues,  only  the  strange  precociousness  of  the 
children,  made  life  at  all  different  from  the  life 
at  home.  She  told  herself,  fiercely,  that  she 
might  be  a  teacher  in  a  district  school — a  coun- 
try school — for  all  the  good  she  was  accom- 
plishing. 

She  had  offered,  so  many  times,  to  do  visit- 
ing in  the  tenements — to  call  upon  families 
of  the  folk  who  would  not  come  to  the  Settle- 
ment House.  But  the  Superintendent  had  met 
her,  always,  with  a  denial  that  was  wearily 
firm. 

"  I  have  a  staff  of  women — older  women 
from  outside — who  do  the  visiting,"  she  had 
said.  "  I'm  afraid/*  she  was  eyeing  Rose- 
Marie  in  the  blue  coat  and  the  blue  tam-o'- 
shanter,  "  I'm  afraid  that  you'd  scarcely  be — 
convincing.  And,"  she  had  added,  "  Dr. 
Blanchard  takes  care  of  all  the  detail  in  that 
department  of  our  work !  " 

Dr.  Blanchard  .  .  .  Rose-Marie  felt 
the  tears  coming  afresh  at  the  thought  of  him ! 
She  remembered  how  she  had  written  home 
enthusiastic,  schoolgirlish  letters  about  the 
handsome  man  who  sat  across  the  dining  table 


24  THE  ISLAND  OP  FAITH 

from  her.  It  had  seemed  exciting,  romantic, 
that  only  the  three  of  them  really  should  live 
in  the  great  brownstone  house — the  Young 
Doctor,  the  Superintendent — who  made  a  per- 
fect chaperon — and  herself.  It  had  seemed, 
somehow,  almost  providential  that  they  should 
be  thrown  together.  Yes,  Rose-Marie  remem- 
bered how  she  had  been  attracted  to  Dr. 
Blanchard  at  the  very  first — how  she  had 
found  nothing  wanting  in  his  wiry  strength, 
his  broad  shoulders,  his  dark,  direct  eyes. 

But  she  had  not  been  in  the  Settlement 
House  long  before  she  began  to  feel  the  clash 
of  their  natures.  When  she  started  to  church 
service,  on  her  first  Sunday  in  New  York,  she 
surprised  a  smile  of  something  that  might  have 
been  cynical  mirth  upon  his  lean,  square- jawed 
face.  And  when  she  spoke  of  the  daily 
prayers  that  she  and  her  aunts  had  so  beauti- 
fully believed  in,  back  in  the  little  town,  he 
laughed  at  her — not  unkindly,  but  with  the 
sympathetic  superiority  that  one  feels  for  a  too 
trusting  child.  Rose-Marie,  thinking  it  over, 
knew  that  she  would  rather  meet  direct  tin- 
kindness  than  that  bland  superiority! 

And  so — though  there  had  never  been  an 
open  quarrel  until  the  one  at  the  luncheon 
table — Rose-Marie  had  learned  to  look  to  the 
Superintendent  for  encouragement,  rather  than 


CONCERNING  IDEALS  25 

to  the  Young  Doctor.  And  she  had  frigidly 
declined  his  small  courtesies — a  visit  to  the 
movies,  a  walk  in  the  park,  a  'bus  ride  up  Fifth 
Avenue. 

"  I  never  went  to  the  movies  at  home,"  she 
had  told  him.  Or,  "  I'm  too  busy,  just  now, 
to  take  a  walk."  Or,  "  I  can't  go  with  you  to- 
day. I've  letters  to  write." 

"  It's  a  shame,"  she  confided,  on  occasion,  to 
the  Superintendent,  "  that  Dr.  Blanchard  never 
goes  to  church.  It's  a  shame  that  he  has  had 
so  little  religious  life.  I  gave  him  a  book  to 
read  the  other  day — the  letters  of  an  American 
Missionary  in  China — and  he  laughed  and  told 
me  that  he  couldn't  waste  his  time.  What  do 
you  think  of  that!  But  later,"  Rose-Marie's 
voice  sank  to  a  horrified  whisper,  "  later,  I  saw 
him  reading  a  cheap  novel — he  had  time  for  a 
cheap  novel ! " 

The  Superintendent  looked  down  into  Rose- 
Marie's  earnest  little  face. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said  gently,  stifling  a  desire 
to  laugh,  "my  dear,  he's  a  very  busy  man. 
He  gives  a  great  deal  of  himself  to  the  people 
here  in  the  slums.  The  novel,  to  him,  was 
just  a  mental  relaxation." 

But  to  the  Young  Doctor,  later,  the  Super- 
intendent spoke  differently. 

"Billy  Blanchard,"  she  said,  and  she  only 


26  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

called  him  Billy  Blanchard  when  she  wanted  to 
scold  him,  "  I've  known  you  for  a  long  time. 
And  I'm  sure  that  there's  no  harm  in  you.  Of 
course,"  she  sighed,  "  I  wish  that  you  could 
feel  a  little  more  in  sympathy  with  the  spir- 
itual side  of  our  work.  But  I've  argued  with 
you,  more  than  once,  on  that  point !  " 

The  doctor,  who  was  packing  medicines  into 
his  bag,  looked  up. 

"You  know,  you  old  dear,"  he  told  her, 
"that  I'm  hopeless.  I  haven't  had  an  easy 
row  to  hoe,  not  ever ;  you  wouldn't  be  religious 
yourself  if  you  were  in  my  shoes!  There — 
don't  look  so  shocked — you've  been  a  mother 
to  me  in  your  funny,  fussy  way,  since  I  came 
to  this  place !  That's  the  main  reason,  I  guess, 
that  I  stick  here,  as  I  do,  when  I  could  make  a 
lot  more  money  somewhere  else ! "  He 
reached  up  to  pat  her  thin  hand,  and  then, 
"  But  why  are  you  worrying,  just  now,  about 
my  soul  ?  "  he  questioned. 

The  Superintendent  sighed  again. 

"It's  the  little  Thompson  girl,"  she  an- 
swered ;  "  she's  so  anxious  to  convert  people, 
and  she's  so  sincere, — so  very  sincere.  I  can't 
help  feeling  that  you  are  a  thorn  in  her  flesh, 
Billy.  She  says  that  you  won't  read  her  mis- 
sionary books " 

The  Young  Doctor  interrupted. 


CONCEBNING  IDEALS  27 

"  She's  such  a  pretty  girl,"  he  said  quite 
fiercely.  "  Why  on  earth  didn't  she  stay  at 
home,  where  she  belonged !  Why  on  earth  did 
she  pick  out  this  sort  of  work?  " 

The  Superintendent  answered. 

"  One  never  knows,"  she  said,  "  why  girls 
pick  out  certain  kinds  of  work.  I've  had  the 
strangest  cases  come  to  my  office — of  homely 
girls  who  wanted  to  be  artists'  models,  and 
anaemic  girls  who  wanted  to  be  physical  direct- 
ors, and  flighty  girls  who  wanted  to  go  to 
Bible  School,  and  quiet  girls  who  were  all  set 
for  a  career  on  the  stage.  Rose-Marie  Thomp- 
son is  the  sort  of  a  girl  who  was  cut  out  to  be 
a  home-maker,  to  give  happiness  to  some  nice, 
clean  boy,  to  have  a  nursery  full  of  rosy- 
cheeked  babies.  And  yet  here  she  is,  filled 
with  a  desire  to  rescue  people,  to  snatch  brands 
from  the  burning.  Here  she  is  in  the  slums 
when  she'd  be  dramatically  right  in  an  apple 
orchard — at  the  time  of  year  when  the  trees 
are  covered  with  pink  and  white  blossoms." 

The  Young  Doctor  laughed.  He  so  well 
understood  the  Superintendent — so  enjoyed 
her  point  of  view. 

"  Yes,"  he  agreed,  "  she'd  be  perfect  there 
in  an  organdy  frock  with  the  sun  slanting 
across  her  face.  But — well,  she's  just  like 
other  girls.  Tell  a  pretty  girl  that  she's  clever, 


28  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

they  say,  and  tell  a  clever  girl  that  she's  a  rav- 
ing, tearing  beauty.  That's  the  way  for  a  man 
to  be  popular !  " 

The  Superintendent  laughed  quietly  with 
him.  It  was  a  moment  before  she  grew  sober 
again. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said  at  last,  "  why  you 
have  never  tried  to  be  popular  with  girls.  You 
could  so  easily  be  popular.  You're  young  and 
— don't  try  to  hush  me  up — good-looking. 
And  yet — well,  you're  such  an  antagonistic  per- 
son. From  the  very  first  you've  laughed  at 
Rose-Marie — and  she  was  quite  ready  to  adore 
you  when  she  arrived.  How  do  I  know  ?  Oh, 
I  could  tell!  Take  the  child  seriously,  Billy 
Blanchard,  before  she  actually  begins  to  dislike 
you!" 

The  Young  Doctor  put  several  bottles  of 
violently  coloured  pills  into  his  bag  before  he 
spoke. 

"  She  dislikes  me  already,"  he  said.  "  She's 
such  a  cool  little  person.  What  are  you  trying 
to  do,  anyway?  Are  you  trying  to  match- 
make  ;  to  stir  up  a  love  affair  between  the  both 

of  us "  suddenly  he  was  laughing  again. 

"  I'm  too  busy  to  have  a  romance,  you  old 
dear,"  he  told  the  Superintendent,  "  far  too 
busy.  I'm  as  likely  to  fall  in  love,  just  now, 
as  you  are !  " 


CONCEENING  IDEALS  29 

The  woman's  face  was  averted  as  she  an- 
swered. But  her  low  voice  was  steady. 

"  When  I  was  your  age,  Billy,"  she  said 
gently,  "  I  was  in  love.  That's  why,  perhaps, 
I  came  here.  That's  why,  perhaps,  I  stayed. 
No,  he  didn't  die — he  married  another  girl. 
And  dreams  are  hard  things  to  forget.  That's 
why  I  left  the  country.  Maybe  that's  why  the 
little  Thompson  girl " 

But  the  Young  Doctor  was  shaking  his  head. 

"  She  hasn't  had  any  love  affair,"  he  told 
the  Superintendent.  "  She's  too  young  and 
full  of  ideals  to  have  anything  so  ordinary  as  a 
romance.  Everybody,"  his  laugh  was  not  too 
pleasant,  "can  have  a  romance!  And  few 
people  can  be  so  filled  with  ideals  as  Miss 
Thompson.  Oh,  it's  her  ideals  that  I  can't 
stand!  It's  her  impractical  way  of  gazing  at 
life  through  pink-coloured  glasses.  She'll 
never  be  of  any  real  use  here  in  the  slums. 
I'm  only  afraid  that  she'll  come  to  some  harm 
because  she's  so  trusting  and  over-sincere.  I'd 
hate  to  see  her  placed  in  direct  contact  with 
:some  of  the  young  men  that  I  work  with,  for 

instance.  You  haven't "  All  at  once  his 

voice  took  on  a  new  note.  "  You  haven't  let 
her  be  with  any  of  the  boys'  classes,  have  you? 
"Her  ideals  might  not  stand  the  strain!" 

The  Superintendent  answered. 


30  THE  ISLA2H)  OF  FAITH 

"  Ideals  don't  hurt  any  one,"  she  said,  and 
her  voice  was  almost  as  fierce  as  the  doctor's. 
"  No,  I  haven't  given  her  a  bit  of  work  with 
the  boys.  She's  too  young  and  too  untouched 
and,  as  you  say,  too  pretty.  I'm  letting  her 
spend  her  time  with  the  mothers,  and  the 
young  girls,  and  the  little  tots — not  even  allow- 
ing her  to  go  out  alone,  if  I  can  help  it.  Such 

innocence "     The    Superintendent    broke 

off  suddenly  in  the  middle  of  the  sentence. 
And  she  sighed  again. 


IV 
THE  PARK 

CRYING  helps,  sometimes.  When  Rose- 
Marie,  alone  in  her  room,  finally  dried 
away  the  tears  that  were  the  direct  re- 
sult of  her  quarrel  with  Dr.  Blanchard,  there 
was  a  new  resolve  in  her  eyes — a  look  that  had 
not  been  there  when  she  went,  an  hour  before, 
to  the  luncheon  table.  It  was  the  look  of  one 
who  has  resolutions  that  cannot  be  shattered — 
dreams  that  are  unbreakable.  She  glanced  at 
her  wrist  watch  and  there  was  a  shade  of  de- 
fiance in  the  very  way  she  raised  the  arm  that 
wore  it. 

"  They  make  a  baby  of  me  here,"  she  told 
herself,  "  they  treat  me  like  a  silly  child.  It's 
a  wonder  that  they  don't  send  a  nurse-maid 
with  me  to  my  classes.  It's  a  wonder  " — she 
was  growing  vehement — "  that  they  give  me 
credit  for  enough  sense  to  wear  rubbers  when 
it's  raining!  I,"  again  she  glanced  at  the 
watch,  "  I  haven't  a  single  thing  to  do  until 
four  o'clock — and  it's  only  just  a  little  after 
two.  I'm  going  out — now.  I'm  going  into 
31 


32  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

the  streets,  or  into  a  tenement,  or  into  a — a 
dive,  if  necessary !  I'm  going  to  show  them  " 
— the  plural  pronoun,  strangely,  referred  to  a 
certain  young  man — "that  I  can  help  some- 
body !  I'm  going  to  show  them " 

She  was  struggling  eagerly  into  her  coat; 
eagerly  she  pulled  her  tam-o'-shanter  over  the 
curls  that,  even  in  the  city  slums,  were  full  of 
sunshine.  With  her  hands  thrust  staunchly 
into  her  pockets,  she  went  out;  out  into  the 
jungle  of  streets  that  met,  as  in  the  center  of  a 
labyrinth,  in  front  of  the  Settlement  House. 

Always,  when  she  had  gone  out  alone,  she 
had  sought  a  small  park  not  far  from  her  new 
home.  It  was  a  comfortingly  green  little  oasis 
in  the  desert  of  stone  and  brick — a  little  oasis 
that  reminded  one  of  the  country.  She  turned 
toward  it  now,  quite  blindly,  for  the  streets 
confused  her — they  always  did.  As  the 
crowds  closed  around  her  she  hurried  vaguely, 
as  a  swimmer  hurries  just  before  he  loses  his 
head  and  goes  down.  She  caught  her  breath 
as  she  went,  for  the  crowds  always  made 'her 
feel  submerged — quite  as  the  swimmer  feels 
just  before  the  final  plunge.  She  entered  the 
park — it  was  scarcely  more  than  a  square  of 
grass — with  a  very  definite  feeling  of  relief, 
almost  of  rescue. 

As  usual,  the  park  was  crowded.     But  park 


THE  PAEK  33 

crowds  are  different  from  street  crowds — they 
are  crowds  at  rest,  rather  than  hurrying,  rest- 
less throngs.  Rose-Marie  sank  upon  an  iron 
bench  and  with  wide,  childishly  distended  eyes 
surveyed  the  people  that  surged  in  upon  her. 

There  was  a  woman  with  a  hideous  black 
wig — the  badge  of  revered  Jewish  motherhood 
— pressed  down  over  the  front  of  her  silvered 
hair.  Rose-Marie,  a  short  time  ago,  would 
have  guessed  her  age  at  seventy — now  she  told 
herself  that  the  woman  was  probably  forty. 
There  was  a  slim,  cigarette-smoking  youth 
with  pale,  shifty  eyes.  There  was  an  old,  old 
man — white-bearded  like  one  of  the  patriarchs 
— and  there  was  a  dark-browed  girl  who  held  a 
drowsy  baby  to  her  breast.  All  of  these  and 
many  more — Italians,  Slavs,  Russians,  Hun- 
garians and  an  occasional  Chinaman — passed 
her  by.  It  seemed  to  the  girl  that  this  section 
was  a  veritable  melting  pot  of  the  races — and 
that  every  example  of  every  race  was  true  to 
type.  She  had  seen  any  number  of  young  men 
with  shifty  eyes — she  had  seen  many  old  men 
with  white  beards.  She  knew  that  other  black- 
wigged  women  lived  in  every  tenement;  that 
other  dark-browed  girls  were,  at  that  same  mo- 
ment, rocking  other  babies.  She  fell  to  won- 
dering, whimsically,  whether  God  had  fash- 
ioned the  people  of  the  slums  after  some  half- 


34  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

dozen  set  patterns — almost  as  the  cutter,  in 
many  an  alley  sweatshop,  fashions  the  frocks 
of  a  season. 

A  sharp  cry  broke  in  upon  her  wonderings. 
It  was  the  cry  of  an  animal  in  utter  pain — in 
blind,  unreasoning  agony.  Rose-Marie  was 
on  her  feet  at  the  first  moment  that  it  cut,  quiv- 
eringly,  through  the  air.  With  eyes  distended 
she  whirled  about  to  face  a  small  boy  who 
knelt  upon  the  ground  behind  her  bench. 

To  Rose-Marie  the  details  of  the  small  boy's 
appearance  came  back,  later,  with  an  amazing 
clarity.  Later  she  could  have  described  his 
dark,  sullen  eyes,  his  mouth  with  its  curiously 
grim  quirk  at  one  corner,  his  shock  of  black 
hair  and  his  ragged  coat.  But  at  the  moment 
she  had  the  ability  to  see  only  one  thing — the 
scrawny  gray  kitten  that  the  boy  had  tied  to 
the  iron  leg  of  the  bench;  the  shrinking  kitten 
that  the  boy  was  torturing  with  a  cold,  relent- 
less cruelty. 

It  shrieked  again — with  an  almost  human 
cry — as  she  started  around  the  bench  toward 
it.  And  the  wild  throbbing  of  her  heart  told 
her  that  she  was  witnessing,  for  the  first  time, 
a  phase  of  human  nature  of  which  she  had 
never  dreamed. 


ROSE-MARIE  COMES  TO  THE  RESCUE 

ROSE-MARIE'S  hand  upon  the  small 
boy's  coat  collar  was  not  gentle. 
With  surprising  strength,  for  she  was 
small  and  slight,  she  jerked  him  aside. 

"  You  wicked  child !  "  she  exclaimed,  and 
the  Young  Doctor  would  have  chuckled  to  hear 
her  tone.  "  You  wicked  child,  what  are  you 
doing  ?  " 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer  she  knelt  be- 
side the  pitiful  little  animal  that  was  tied  to 
the  bench,  and  with  trembling  fingers  unloosed 
the  cord  that  held  it,  noting  as  she  did  so  how 
its  bones  showed,  even  through  its  coat  of  fur. 
When  it  was  at  liberty  she  gathered  it  close  to 
her  breast  and  turned  to  face  the  boy. 

He  had  not  tried  to  run  away.  Even  with 
the  anger  surging  through  her,  Rose-Marie 
admitted  that  the  child  was  not — in  one  sense 
— a  coward.  He  had  waited,  brazenly  per- 
haps, to  hear  what  she  had  to  say.  With 
blazing  eyes  she  said  it: 

"  Why,"  she  questioned,  and  the  anger  that 
made  her  eyes  blaze  also  put  a  tremor  into 
35 


36  THE  ISLAND  OP  FAITH 

her  voice,  "  why  were  you  deliberately  hurting 
this  kitten?  Don't  you  know  that  kittens  can 
feel  pain  just  as  much  as  you  can  feel  pain? 
Don't  you  know  that  it  is  wicked  to  make  any- 
thing suffer  ?  Why  were  you  so  wicked  ?  " 

The  boy  looked  up  at  her  with  sullen,  dark 
eyes.  The  grim  twist  at  one  corner  of  his 
mouth  became  more  pronounced. 

"Aw,"  he  said  gruffly,  "  why  don't  yer  mind 
yer  own  business  ?  " 

If  Rose-Marie's  hands  had  been  free,  she 
would  have  taken  the  boy  suddenly  and  firmly 
by  both  shoulders.  She  felt  an  overwhelming 
desire  to  shake  him — to  shake  him  until  his 
teeth  chattered.  But  both  of  her  hands  were 
busy,  soothing  the  gray  kitten  that  shivered 
against  her  breast. 

"  I  am  minding  my  own  business,"  she  told 
the  boy.  "  It's  my  business  to  give  help  where 
it's  needed, '  and  this  kitten,"  she  cuddled  it 
closer,  "  certainly  needed  help !  Haven't  you 
ever  been  told  that  you  should  be  kind  ?  Like," 
she  faltered,  "  like  Jesus  was  kind  ?  He 
wouldn't  have  hurt  anything.  He  loved  ani- 
mals— and  He  loved  boys,  too.  Why  don't 
you  try  to  be  the  sort  of  a  boy  He  could  love? 
Why  do  you  try  to  be  bad — to  do  wrong 
things  ?  " 

The  eyes  of  the  child  were  even  more  sullen 


EOSE-MAEIE  COMES  TO  THE  EESCUE    37 

— the  twist  of  his  mouth  was  even  more  grim 
as  he  listened  to  Rose-Marie.  But  when  she 
had  finished  speaking,  he  answered  her — and 
still  he  did  not  try  to  run  away. 

"  Wot,"  he  questioned,  almost  in  the  words 
of  the  Young  Doctor,  ""wot  do  you  know  about 
things  that's  right  an'  things  that's  wrong?  It 
ain't  bad  t'  hurt  animals — not  if  they're  little 
enough  so  as  they  ain't  able  t'  hurt  you !  " 

Rose-Marie  sat  down,  very  suddenly,  upon 
the  bench.  In  all  of  her  life — her  sheltered, 
glad  life — she  had  never  heard  such  a  brutal 
creed  spoken,  and  from  the  lips  of  a  child! 
Her  eyes,  searching  his  face,  saw  that  he  was 
not  trying  to  be  funny,  or  saucy,  or  smart. 
Curiously  enough  she  noted  that  he  was  quite 
sincere — that,  to  him,  the  torturing  of  a  kitten 
was  only  a  part  of  the  day  with  its  various 
struggles  and  amusements.  When  she  spoke 
again  her  tone  was  gentle — as  gentle  as  the 
tone  with  which  the  other  slum  children,  who 
came  to  the  Settlement  House,  were  familiar. 

"  Whoever  told  you,"  she  questioned,  "  that 
it's  not  wrong  to  hurt  an  animal,  so  long  as  it 
can't  fight  back?" 

The  boy  eyed  her  strangely.  Rose-Marie 
could  almost  detect  a  gleam  of  latent  interest 
in  his  dark  eyes.  And  then,  as  if  he  had 
gained  a  sort  of  confidence  in  her,  he  answered. 


88  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

"Nobody  never  told  me,"  he  said  gruffly. 
"  But  I  know." 

The  kitten  against  Rose-Marie's  breast  cried 
piteously.  Perhaps  it  was  the  hopelessness  of 
the  cry  that  made  her  want  so  desperately  to 
make  the  boy  understand.  Conquering  the 
loathing  she  had  felt  toward  him  she  managed 
the  ghost  of  a  smile. 

"  I  wish,"  she  said,  and  the  smile  became 
firmer,  brighter,  as  she  said  it,  "  I  wish  that 
you'd  sit  down,  here,  beside  me.  I  want  to  tell 
you  about  the  animals  that  I've  had  for  pets — 
and  about  how  they  loved  me.  I  had  a  white 
dog  once;  his  name  was  Dick.  He  used  to 
go  to  the  store  for  me,  he  used  to  carry  my 
bundles  home  in  his  mouth  —  and  he  did 
tricks " 

The  boy  had  seated  himself,  gingerly,  on 
the  bench.  He  interrupted  her,  and  his  voice 
was  eager. 

"  Did  yer  have  t*  beat  him,"  he  questioned, 
"t'  make  him  do  the  tricks?  Did  he  bleed 
when  yer  beat  him  ?  " 

Again  Rose-Marie  gasped.  She  leaned  for- 
ward until  her  face  was  on  a  level  with  the 
boy's  face. 

"  Why,"  she  asked  him,  "  do  you  think  that 
the  only  way  to  teach  an  animal  is  to  teach  him 
by  cruelty?  I  taught  my  dog  tricks  by  being 


EOSE-MAEIE  COMES  TO  THE  EESCUE    39 

kind  and  sweet  to  him.  Why  do  you  talk  of 
beatings — I  couldn't  hurt  anything,  even  if  I 
disliked  it,  until  it  bled! " 

The  small  boy  drew  back  from  Rose-Marie. 
His  expression  was  vaguely  puzzled  —  it 
seemed  almost  as  if  he  did  not  comprehend 
what  her  words  meant. 

"  My  pa  beats  me,"  he  said  suddenly,  "  al- 
ways he  beats  me — when  he's  drunk!  An' 
sometimes  he  beats  me  when  he  ain't.  He 
beats  Ma,  too,  an'  he  uster  beat  Jim,  'n'  Ella. 
He  don't  dare  beat  Jim  now,  though  " — this 
proudly — "  Jim's  as  big  as  he  is  now,  an'  Ella 
— nobody'd  dast  lay  a  hand  on  Ella  .  .  ." 
almost  as  suddenly  as  he  had  started  to  talk, 
the  boy  stopped. 

For  the  moment  the  episode  of  the  kitten 
was  a  forgotten  thing.  There  was  only  pity, 
only  a  blank  sort  of  horror,  on  Rose-Marie's 
face. 

"Doesn't  your  father  love  you — any  of 
you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Naw."  The  boy's  mouth  was  a  straight 
line — a  straight  and  very  bitter  line,  for  such 
a  young  mouth.  "  Naw,  he  only  loves  his 
booze.  He  hits  me  all  th'  time — an'  he's  four 
times  as  big  as  me!  An'  so  I  hit  whoever's 
smaller'n  I  am.  An*  even  if  they  cry  I  don't 
care.  I  hate  things  that's  little — that  can't 


40  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

take  care  o'  themselves.  Everything  had 
oughter  be  able  t'  take  care  of  itself !  " 

"  Haven't  you  " — again  Rose-Marie  asked  a 
question — "haven't  you  ever  loved  anything 
that  was  smaller  than  you  are?  Haven't  you 
ever  had  a  pet?  Haven't  you  ever  felt  that 
you  must  protect  and  take  care  of  some  one — 
or  something  ?  Haven't  you  ?  " 

All  at  once  the  boy  was  smiling,  and  the 
smile  lit  up  his  small,  dark  face  as  a  candle, 
slowly  flickering,  brings  cheer  and  brightness 
to  a  dull,  lonely  room. 

"  I  love  Lily,"  he  told  her.  "  I  wouldn't  let 
nobody  touch  Lily!  If  Pa  so  much  as  spoke 
mean  to  her — I'd  kill  him.  I'd  kill  him  with  a 
knife!" 

Rose-Marie  shuddered  inwardly  at  the 
thought.  But  her  voice  was  very  even  as  she 
spoke. 

"Who  is  Lily?  "she  asked. 

The  boy  had  slid  down  along  the  bench.  He 
was  so  close  to  her  that  his  shabby  coat  sleeve 
touched  her  blue  one. 

"  Lily's  my  kid  sister,"  he  said,  and,  miracle 
of  miracles,  his  voice  held  a  note  of  tenderness. 
"  Say — Miss,  I'm  sorry  I  hurt  th'  cat." 

With  a  sudden  feeling  of  warmth  Rose- 
Marie  moved  just  a  fraction  of  an  inch  closer 
to  the  boy.  She  knew,  somehow,  that  his 


ROSE-MABIE  COMES  TO  THE  EESCUE    41 

small,  curiously  abject  apology  was  in  a  way 
related  to  the  "  kid  sister  " ;  she  knew,  almost 
instinctively,  that  this  Lily  who  could  make  a 
smile  come  to  the  dark  little  face,  who  could 
make  a  tenderness  dwell  in  those  hard  young 
eyes,  was  the  only  avenue  by  which  she  could 
reach  this  strange  child.  She  spoke  to  him 
suddenly,  impulsively. 

"  I'd  like  to  see  your  Lily;  I'd  like  to  see  her, 
awfully,"  she  told  him.  "  Will  you  bring  her 
some  time  to  call  on  me  ?  I  live  at  the  Settle- 
ment House." 

A  subtle  change  had  come  over  the  child's 
face.  He  slid,  hurriedly,  from  the  bench. 

"Oh,"  he  said,  "yer  one  o'  them!  You 
sing  hymns  'n'  pray  'n'  tell  folks  t'  take  baths. 
I  know.  Well,  I  can't  bring  Lily  t'  see  you — 
not  ever ! " 

Rose-Marie  had  also  risen  to  her  feet. 

"  Then,"  she  said  eagerly,  "  let  me  come  and 
see  Lily.  Where  do  you  live  ?  " 

The  boy's  eyes  had  fallen.  It  was  plain  that 
he  did  not  want  to  answer — that  he  was  ex- 
periencing the  almost  inarticulate  embarrass- 
ment of  childhood. 

"We  live,"  he  told  her  at  last,  "in  that 
house  over  there."  His  pointing  ringer  indi- 
cated the  largest  and  grimiest  of  the  tenements 
that  loomed,  dark  and  high,  above  the  squalor 


42  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

of  a  side  street.  "  But  you  wouldn't  wanter 
come — there !  " 

Rose-Marie  caught  her  breath  sharply.  She 
was  remembering  how  the  Superintendent  had 
forbidden  her  to  do  visiting,  how  the  Young 
Doctor  had  laughed  at  her  desire  to  be  of  serv- 
ice. She  knew  what  they  would  say  if  she  told 
them  that  she  was  going  into  a  tenement  to  see 
a  strange  child  named  Lily.  Perhaps  that  was 
why  her  voice  had  an  excited  ring  as  she  an- 
swered. 

"Yes,  I  would  come  there!"  she  told  the 
boy.  "Tell  me  what  floor  you  live  on,  and 
what  your  name  is,  and  when  it  would  be  best 
for  me  to  come  ?  " 

"  My  name's  Bennie  Volsky,"  the  boy  said 
slowly.  "  We're  up  five  flights,  in  th'  back. 
D'yer  really  mean  that  you'll  come — an*  see 
Lily?" 

Rose-Marie  nodded  soberly.  How  could 
the  child  know  that  her  heart  was  all  athrob 
with  the  call  of  a  great  adventure  ? 

"Yes,  I  mean  it,"  she  told  him.  "When 
shall  I  come?" 

The  boy's  grubby  hand  shot  out  and  rested 
upon  her  sleeve. 

"  Come  to-morrow  afternoon,"  he  told  her. 
"Say,  yer  all  right!"  He  turned,  swiftly, 
and  ran  through  the  crowd,  and  in  a  moment 


EOSE-MAEIE  COMES  TO  THE  EESCUE    43 

had  disappeared  like  a  small  drab-coloured  city 
chameleon. 

Rose-Marie,  standing  by  the  bench,  watched 
the  place  where  he  had  disappeared.  And 
then,  all  at  once,  she  turned  swiftly — just  as 
swiftly  as  the  boy  had — and  started  back  across 
the  park  toward  the  Settlement  House. 

"  I  won't  tell  them ! "  she  was  saying  over 
and  over  in  her  heart,  as  she  went,  "  I  won't 
tell  them !  They  wouldn't  let  me  go,  if  I  did. 
...  I  won't  tell  them !  " 

The  kitten  was  still  held  tight  in  her  arms. 
It  rested,  quite  contentedly,  against  her  blue 
coat.  Perhaps  it  knew  that  there  was  a  warm, 
friendly  place — even  for  little  frightened  ani- 
mals— in  the  Settlement  House. 


VI 

"THERE'S  NO   PLACE " 

WHEN  Rose-Marie  paused  in  front  of 
the  tenement,  at  three  o'clock  on 
the  following  afternoon,  she  felt 
like  a  naughty  little  girl  who  is  playing  truant 
from  school.  When  she  remembered  the  way 
that  she  had  avoided  the  Superintendent's  al- 
most direct  questions,  she  blushed  with  an  in- 
ward sense  of  shame.  But  when  she  thought 
of  the  Young  Doctor's  offer  to  go  with  her — 
"  wherever  she  was  going  " — she  threw  back 
her  head  with  a  defiant  little  gesture.  She 
knew  well  that  the  Young  Doctor  was  sorry 
for  yesterday's  quarrel — she  knew  that  a  night 
beside  the  dying  Mrs.  Celleni,  and  the  wails  of 
the  Cohen  baby,  had  temporarily  softened  his 
viewpoint  upon  life.  And  yet — he  had  said 
that  they  were  soulless — these  people  that  she 
had  come  to  help !  He  would  have  condemned 
Bennie  Volsky  from  the  first — but  she  had  de- 
tected the  glimmerings  of  something  fine  in  the 
child !  No — despite  his  more  tolerant  attitude 
— she  knew  that,  underneath,  his  convictions 
44 


"THEKE'S  NO  PLACE "  45 

were  unchanged.  She  was  glad  that  she  had 
gone  out  upon  her  adventure  alone. 

With  a  heart  that  throbbed  in  quick  staccato 
beats,  she  mounted  the  steps  of  the  tenement. 
Little  dark-eyed  children  moved  away  from 
her,  apparently  on  every  side,  but  somehow  she 
scarcely  noticed  them.  The  doorway  yawned, 
like  an  open  mouth,  in  front  of  her — and  she 
could  think  of  nothing  else.  As  she  went  over 
the  dark  threshold  she  remembered  stories  that 
she  had  read  about  people  who  go  in  at  tene- 
ment doorways  and  are  never  seen  again. 
Every  one  has  read  such  stories  in  the  daily 
newspapers — and  perhaps  some  of  them  are 
true! 

A  faint  light  flickered  in  through  the  door- 
way. It  made  the  ascent  of  the  first  flight  of 
creaking  stairs  quite  easy.  At  least  Rose- 
Marie  could  step  aside  from  the  piles  of  rub- 
bish and  avoid  the  rickety  places.  She  won- 
dered, as  she  went  up,  her  fingers  gingerly 
touching  the  dirty  hand-rail,  how  people  could 
exist  under  such  wretched  conditions. 

The  second  flight  was  harder  to  manage. 
The  light  from  the  narrow  doorway  was  shut 
off,  and  there  were  no  windows.  There  might 
have  been  gas  jets  upon  every  landing — Rose- 
Marie  supposed  that  there  were — but  it  was 
mid-afternoon,  and  they  had  not  yet  been 


46  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

lighted.  She  groped  her  way  up  the  second 
flight,  and  the  third,  feeling  carefully  along 
each  step  with  her  foot  before  she  put  her 
weight  upon  it 

On  the  fourth  flight  she  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment to  catch  her  breath.  But  she  realized,  as 
she  paused,  that  even  breathing  had  to  be  done 
under  difficulties  in  this  place.  There  was  no 
ventilation  of  any  sort,  so  far  as  she  could  tell 
— all  about  her  floated  the  odours  of  boiled 
cabbage,  and  fried  onions,  and  garlic.  And 
there  were  other  odours,  too ;  the  indescribable 
smells  of  soiled  clothing  and  soap-suds  and 
greasy  dishes. 

But  in  Rose-Marie's  mind,  the  odours — 
poignant  though  they  were — took  second  place 
to  the  sounds.  Never,  she  told  herself,  had  she 
imagined  that  so  many  different  sorts  of  noises 
could  exist  in  the  same  place  at  one  and  the 
same  time.  There  were  the  cries  and  sobs  of 
little  children,  the  moans  of  sickness,  the  thuds 
of  falling  furniture  and  the  crashes  of  break- 
ing crockery.  There  were  yells  of  rage, 
and — worst  of  all — bursts  of  appalling  pro- 
fanity. Rose-Marie,  standing  there  in  the 
darkness  of  the  fourth  flight,  heard  words  that 
she  had  never  expected  to  hear — phrases  of 
which  she  had  never  dreamed.  She  shuddered 
as  she  started  up  the  fifth  flight,  and  when,  at 


"  THEEE'S  NO  PLACE "  47 

last,  she  stood  in  front  of  the  Volsky  flat,  she 
experienced  almost  a  feeling  of  relief.  At 
least  she  would  be  shut  off,  in  a  moment,  from 
those  alien  and  terrible  sounds — at  least,  in  a 
moment,  she  would  be  in  a  home. 

To  most  of  us — particularly  if  we  have 
grown  up  in  an  atmosphere  such  as  had  always 
sheltered  Rose-Marie — the  very  sound  of  the 
word  "tiome"  brings  a  certain  sense  of 
warmth  and  comfort.  Home  stands  for  shelter 
and  protection  and  love.  "  Be  it  ever  so 
humble,"  the  old  song  tells  us,  "  be  it  ever  so 
humble  .  .  ." 

And  Rose-Marie,  knocking  timidly  upon  the 
Volsky  door,  expected  to  find  a  home.  She 
expected  it  to  be  humble  in  the  truest  sense  of 
the  word — to  be  ragged  and  poverty-stricken 
and  mean.  And  yet  she  could  not  feel  that  it 
would  be  utterly  divorced  from  the  ideals  she 
had  always  built  around  her  conception  of  the 
word.  She  expected  it  to  be  a  home  because  a 
family  lived  there  together — a  mother,  and  a 
father,  and  children. 

In  answer  to  her  knock  the  door  swung 
open — a  little  way.  The  glow  of  a  dingy  lamp 
fell  about  her,  through  the  opening — she  felt 
suddenly  as  if  she  had  been  swept,  willy-nilly, 
before  the  footlights  of  some  hostile  stage. 
For  a  moment  she  stood  blinking.  And  as  she 


48  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

stood  there,  quite  unable  to  see,  she  heard  the 
voice  of  Bennie  Volsky,  speaking  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

"  It's  you,  Miss ! "  said  the  voice,  and  it 
was  as  full  of  intense  wonderment  as  a  voice 
could  be.  "  I  never  thought  that  you'd  come 
— I  didn't  think  you  was  on  th'  level.  So  many; 

folks  say  they'll  do  things "  he  broke  off, 

and  then — "Walk  in,  quiet,"  he  told  her 
slowly.  "  Don't  make  any  noise,  if  yer  can 
help  it !  Pa's  come  home,  all  lit  up.  An'  he's 

asleep,  in  th'  corner!  There'll  be "  he 

broke  off—"  There'll  be  th'  dickens  t'  pay,  if 
Pa  wakes  up !  But  walk  in,  still-like.  An'  yer 
can  see  Ma  an*  all,  an' — Lily! " 

Rose-Marie,  whose  eyes  had  now  become 
accustomed  to  the  dim  light,  stepped  past  the 
boy  and  into  the  room.  Her  hand,  in  passing, 
touched  his  arm  lightly,  for  she  knew  that  he 
was  labouring  under  intense  excitement.  She 
stepped  into  the  room,  on  mousy-quiet  feet — 
and  then,  with  a  quick  gasp,  drew  back  again. 

Never,  in  her  wildest  dreams  of  poverty, 
had  Rose-Marie  supposed  that  squalor,  such 
as  she  saw  in  the  Volsky  home,  could  exist. 
Never  had  she  supposed  that  a  family  could 
live  in  such  cramped,  airless  quarters.  Never 
had  she  thought  that  filth,  such  as  she  saw  in 
the  room,  was  possible.  It  all  seemed,  some- 


"  THERE'S  NO  PLACE "  49 

how,  an  unbelievably  bad  dream — a  dream  in 
which  she  was  appearing,  with  startling  real- 
ism. Her  comfortable  picture  of  a  home  was 
vanishing — vanishing  as  suddenly  and  com- 
pletely as  a  soap  bubble  vanishes,  if  pricked  by 
a  pin. 

"  Why — why,  Bennie !  "  she  began.  But  the 
child  was  not  listening.  He  had  darted  from 
her  side  and  was  dragging  forward,  by  one 
listless,  work-coarsened  hand,  a  pallid,  droop- 
ing woman. 

"  Dis  is  my  ma,"  he  told  Rose-Marie. 
"  She  didn't  know  yer  was  comin'.  I  didn't 
tell  her!" 

It  seemed  to  Rose-Marie  that  there  was  a 
scared  sort  of  appeal  in  the  woman's  eyes  as 
they  travelled,  slowly,  over  her  face.  But  there 
was  not  even  appeal  in  the  tone  of  her  voice 
— it  was  all  a  drab,  colourless  monotone. 

"  Whatcha  come  here  f  er  ?  "  she  questioned. 
"  Pa,  he's  home.  If  he  should  ter  wake 
up "  She  left  the  sentence  unfinished. 

Almost  instinctively  the  eyes  of  Rose-Marie 
travelled  past  the  figure  of  Mrs.  Volsky. 
There  was  nothing  in  that  figure  to  hold  her 
gaze — it  was  so  vague,  so  like  a  shadow  of 
something  that  had  been.  She  saw  the  few 
broken  chairs,  the  half-filled  wash  tub,  the 
dish-pan  with  its  freight  of  soiled  cups  and 


60  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

plates.  She  saw  the  gas  stove,  with  its  bat- 
tered coffee-pot,  and  a  mattress  or  two  piled 
high  with  dingy  bedding.  And,  in  one  corner, 
she  saw — with  a  new  sense  of  horror — the  re- 
clining figure  of  Pa. 

Pa  was  sleeping.  Sleeping  heavily,  with  his 
mouth  open  and  his  tousled  head  slipping  to 
one  side.  One  great  hairy  hand  was  clenched 
about  an  empty  bottle — one  huge  foot,  stock- 
ingless  and  half  out  of  its  shoe,  was  dragging 
limply  off  the  heap  of  blankets  that  was  his 
bed.  A  stubble  of  beard  made  his  already  dark 
face  even  more  sinister,  his  tousled  hair  looked 
as  if  it  had  never  known  the  refining  influences 
of  a  comb  or  brush.  As  Rose-Marie  stared  at 
him,  half  fascinated,  he  turned — with  a  spas- 
modic, drunken  movement — and  flung  one 
heavy  arm  above  his  head. 

The  room  was  not  a  large  one.  But,  at  that 
moment,  it  seemed  appallingly  spacious  to 
Rose-Marie.  She  turned,  almost  with  a  feel- 
ing of  affection,  toward  Bennie.  At  least  she 
had  seen  him  before.  And,  as  if  he  interpreted 
her  feeling,  Bennie  spoke. 

"We  got  two  other  rooms,"  he  told  her, 
"  one  that  Ella  an'  Lily  sleep  in,  an'  one  that 
Jim  pays  fer,  his  own  self.  Ma  an'  Pa  an'  me 
— we  sleep  here!  Say,  don't  you  be  too  scared 
o'  Pa — he'll  stay  asleep  fer  a  long  time,  now. 


"  THERE'S  NO  PLACE »  61 

He  won't  wake  up  unless  he's  shook.  Will  he, 
Ma?" 

Mrs.  Volsky  nodded  her  head  with  a  worn 
out,  apathetic  movement.  Noiselessly,  but 
with  the  appearance  of  a  certain  terrible  effort 
under  the  shell  of  quiet,  she  moved  away  across 
the  room  toward  the  stove. 

"  She's  goin'  t'  warm  up  th'  coffee,"  Bennie 
said.  "  She'll  give  you  some,  in  a  minute,  if 
yer  want  it !  " 

Rose-Marie  was  about  to  speak,  about  to 
assure  Bennie  that  she  didn't  want  any  of  the 
coffee,  when  steps  sounded  on  the  stairs.  They 
were  hurried  steps;  steps  suggesting  to  the 
listener  that  five  flights  were  nothing,  after 
all!  Rose-Marie  found  herself  turning  as  a 
hand  fell  heavily  upon  a  door-knob,  and  the 
door  swung  in. 

A  young  man  stood  jauntily  upon  the 
threshold.  Rose-Marie's  first  impression  of 
him  was  one  of  extreme,  almost  offensive  neat- 
ness— of  sleek  hair,  that  looked  like  patent 
leather,  and  of  highly  polished  brown  shoes. 
She  saw  that  his  blue  and  white  striped  collar 
was  speckless,  that  his  blue  tie  was  obviously 
new,  that  his  trousers  were  creased  to  an  al- 
most dangerous  edge.  But  it  was  the  face  of 
the  young  man  from  which  Rose-Marie  shrank 
back — a  clever,  sharp  face  with  narrow,  hor- 


62  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

ribly  speculative  eyes  and  a  thin-lipped  red 
mouth.  It  was  a  handsome  face,  yes,  but 

The  voice  of  Bennie  broke,  suddenly,  across 
her  speculations.  "  Jim,"  he  said. 

Still  jauntily — Rose-Marie  realized  that 
jauntiness  was  his  keynote — the  young  man 
entered  the  room.  His  sharp  eyes  travelled 
with  lightning-like  rapidity  over  the  place, 
resting  a  moment  on  the  sleeping  figure  of  Pa 
before  they  hurried  past  him  to  Rose-Marie. 
He  surveyed  her  coolly,  taking  in  every  fea- 
ture, every  fold  of  her  garments,  with  a  studied 
boldness  that  was  somehow  offensive. 

"  Who's  she  ?  "  he  questioned  abruptly,  of 
any  one  who  cared  to  answer,  and  one  mani- 
cured finger  pointed  in  her  direction. 
"  Where'd  she  come  from?  " 

Bennie  was  the  one  who  spoke.  Rather 
gallantly  he  stepped  in  front  of  Rose-Marie. 

"  She's  a  friend  of  mine,"  he  said ;  "  she 
lives  by  th'  Settlement  House.  She  come  up 
here  t'  see  me,  'n'  Ma,  V  Lily.  You  leave  her 
be — y'  understand  ?  " 

The  young  man  laughed,  and  his  laugh  was 
curiously  hard  and  dry. 

"Oh,  sure!"  he  told  Bennie.  "I'll  leave 
her  be !  What,"  he  turned  to  Rose-Marie  with 
an  insolent  smile,  "  what's  yer  name  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  met  his  insolent  gaze  with  a 


"  THEEE'S  NO  PLACE ' '  53 

calm  expression.  No  one  would  have  guessed 
that  she  was  trembling  inwardly. 

"  My  name,"  she  told  him,  "  is  Rose-Marie 
Thompson.  I  live  in  the  Settlement  House, 
and  I  came  to  see  your  sister.'* 

"  Well,"  the  young  man's  insolent  gaze  was 
still  studying  Rose-Marie,  "well,  she'll  be 
up  soon.  I  passed  'er  on  th'  stairs.  But/'  he 
laughed  again,  "why  didn't  yer  come  t*  see 
me— huh?" 

Rose-Marie,  having  no  answer,  turned  ex- 
pectantly toward  the  door.  If  this  Jim  had 
passed  his  sister  on  the  stairs,  she  couldn't  be 
very  far  away.  As  if  in  reply  to  her  supposi- 
tion, the  door  swung  open  again  and  a  tall, 
dark-eyed  girl  came  into  the  room.  Rose- 
Marie  saw  with  her  first  swift  glance  that  the 
red  upon  the  girl's  cheeks  was  too  high  to  be 
quite  natural — that  the  scarlet  of  her  lips  was 
over-vivid.  And  yet,  despite  the  patently  arti- 
ficial colouring,  she  realized  that  the  girl  was 
beautiful  with  a  high  strung,  almost  thorough- 
bred beauty.  She  wondered  how  this  beauty 
had  been  born  of  the  dim  woman  who  seemed 
so  colourless  and  the  sodden  brute  who  lay 
snoring  in  the  corner. 

Her  train  of  thought  was  broken,  suddenly. 
For  the  young  man  was  speaking.  Rose-Marie 
disliked,  somehow,  the  very  tone  of  his  voice. 


54  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

"  Here's  a  girl  t'  see  you,  Ella/*  he  said. 
"  She's  from  th'  Settlement  House — she  says ! 
Maybe  she  wants,"  sarcastically,  "  that  you 
should  join  a  Bible  Class ! " 

The  girl's  eyes  were  flashing  with  a  danger- 
ously hard  light.  She  turned  angrily  to  Rose- 
Marie.  But  before  she  could  say  anything,  the 
child,  Bennie,  had  interposed. 

"  She  didn't  come  t'  see  you"  he  told  his 
older  sister — "  she  don't  want  t'  see  you — like 
those  other  wimmen  did.  She  come  t'  see 
lily » 

He  paused  and  Rose-Marie,  who  had  gath- 
ered that  social  service  workers  were  not  wel- 
come visitors,  went  on  breathlessly,  from 
where  he  left  off. 

"  I  am  from  the  Settlement  House,"  she  told 
Ella,  "  and  I'd  like  awfully  to  have  you  join 
our  classes.  But  that  wasn't  why  I  came  here. 
Bennie  told  me  that  he  had  a  dear  little  sister. 
And  I  came  to  see  her." 

A  change  swept  miraculously  over  Ella's 
cold  face.  Rose-Marie  could  see,  all  at  once, 
that  she  and  her  young  brother  were  strikingly 
alike — that  Jim  was  the  different  one  in  this 
family. 

"  I'll  get  Lily,"  Ella  said  simply,  and  there 
was  a  warmth,  a  tenderness  in  her  dark  eyes 
that  had  been  so  hard.  "  I  didn't  understand," 


"THEBE'S  NO  PLACE »  55 

she  added,  as  she  went  quickly  past  Rose-Marie 
and  into  the  small  inner  room  that  Bennie  had 
said  his  sisters  shared.  In  a  moment  she  came 
out  leading  a  small  girl  by  the  hand. 

"  This  is  Lily !  "  she  said  softly. 

Even  in  that  dingy  place — perhaps  ac- 
centuated by  the  very  dinginess  of  it — Lily's 
blond  loveliness  struck  Rose-Marie  with  a 
sense  of  shock.  The  child  might  have  been  a 
flower — the  very  flower  whose  name  she  bore 
— growing  upon  an  ash  heap.  Her  beauty 
made  the  rest  of  the  room  fade  into  dim  out- 
lines— made  Jim  and  Ella  and  Bennie  seem 
heavy,  and  somehow  overfed.  Even  Pa,  snor- 
ing lustily,  became  almost  a  shadow.  Rose- 
Marie  stepped  toward  the  child  impulsively, 
with  outflung  arms. 

"  Oh,  you  dear !  "  she  said  shakily,  "  you 
dear!" 

Nobody  spoke.  Only  Ella,  with  gentle 
hands,  pushed  her  little  sister  forward.  The 
child's  great  blue  eyes  looked  past  Rose-Marie, 
and  a  vague  smile  quivered  on  her  lips. 

"  Oh,  you  dear ! "  Rose-Marie  exclaimed 
again,  and  went  down  on  her  knees  on  the 
dirty  floor — real  women  will  always  kneel  be- 
fore a  beautiful  child. 

Lily  might  have  been  four  years  old.  Her 
hair,  drawn  back  from  her  white  little  face, 


56  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

was  the  colour  of  pale  gold,  and  her  lips  were 
faintly  coral.  But  it  was  her  deep  eyes,  with 
their  vague  expression,  that  clutched,  some- 
how, at  Rose-Marie's  heart. 

"Tell  me  that  you're  going  to  like  me, 
Lily !  "  she  almost  implored.  "  I  love  little 
girls." 

The  child  did  not  answer — indeed,  she  did 
not  seem  to  hear.  But  one  thin  little  hand, 
creeping  out,  touched  Rose-Marie's  face  with 
a  gesture  that  was  singularly  appealing,  sin- 
gularly full  of  affection.  When  the  fingers 
touched  her  cheek,  Rose-Marie  felt  a  sudden 
suspicion,  a  sudden  dread.  She  noticed,  all  at 
once,  that  no  one  was  speaking — that  the  room 
was  quite  still,  except  for  the  beastial  grunts 
of  the  sleeping  Pa. 

"  Why,"  she  asked,  quite  without  meaning 
to,  "  why  doesn't  she  answer  me  ?  She  isn't 
afraid  of  me,  is  she?  Why  doesn't  she  say 
something?" 

It  was,  curiously  enough,  Mrs.  Volsky  who 
answered.  Even  her  voice — that  was  usually 
so  dull  and  monotonous — held  a  certain 
tremor. 

"  Lily,"  she  said  slowly,  "  can't  spick — 'r 
hear.  An'  she's — blind !  " 


VII 

A  LILY  IN  THE  SLUMS 

ROSE-MARIE  started  back  'from  the 
child  with  a  sickening  sense  of  shock. 
All  at  once  she  realized  the  reason 
why  Bennie's  eyes  grew  tender  at  the  mention 
of  his  little  sister — why  Ella  forgot  anger  and 
suspicion  when  Lily  came  into  the  room.  She 
understood  why  Mrs.  Volsky's  dull  voice  held 
love  and  sorrow.  And  yet,  as  she  looked  at 
the  small  girl,  it  seemed  almost  incredible  that 
she  should  be  so  afflicted.  Deaf  and  dumb  and 
blind !  Never  to  hear  the  voices  of  those  who 
loved  her,  never  to  see  the  beautiful  things  of 
life,  never — even — to  speak!  Rose-Marie 
choked  back  a  sob,  and  glanced  across  the 
child's  cloud  of  pale  golden  hair  at  Ella.  As 
their  eyes  met  she  knew  that  they  were,  in 
some  strange  way,  friends. 

With  a  sudden,  overwhelming  pity,  her 
arms  reached  out  again  to  Lily.  As  she 
gathered  the  child  close  she  was  surprised  at 
the  slenderness  of  the  tiny  figure,  at  the  neat- 
ness of  the  faded  gingham  frock  that  blended 
57 


68  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

in  tone  with  the  great,  sightless  eyes.  All  at 
once  she  remembered  what  Bennie  had  said  to 
her,  the  day  before,  in  the  park. 

"  I  love  Lily/'  he  had  told  her,  "  I  wouldn't 
let  nobody  hurt  Lily!  If  any  one — even  Pa, 
so  much  as  spoke  mean  to  her — I'd  kill 
him.  .  .  ." 

Glancing  about  the  room,  at  the  faces  of  the 
others,  she  sensed  a  silent  echo  of  Bennie's 
words.  Mrs.  Volsky,  who  would  keep  neither 
her  flat  nor  herself  neat,  quite  evidently  saw 
to  it  that  Lily's  little  dress  was  spotless.  Ella, 
whose  temper  would  flare  up  at  the  slightest 
word,  cared  for  the  child  with  the  tender 
efficiency  of  a  professional  nurse;  Bennie's 
face,  as  he  looked  at  his  tiny  sister,  had  taken 
on  a  cherubic  softness.  And  Jim  .  .  . 
Rose-Marie  glanced  at  Jim  and  was  startled 
out  of  her  reflections.  For  Jim  was  not  look- 
ing at  Lily.  His  gaze  was  fixed  upon  her  own 
face  with  an  intensity  that  frightened  her. 
With  a  sudden  impulse  she  spoke  directly  to 
him. 

"  You  must  be  very  kind  to  this  little  sister 
of  yours,"  she  told  him.  "  She  needs  every  bit 
of  love  and  affection  and  consideration  that 
her  family  can  give  her !  " 

Jim,  his  gaze  still  upon  her  face,  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  But  before  he  could  answer 


A  LILY  IN  THE  SLUMS  59 

Ella  had  come  a  step  closer  to  Rose-Marie. 
Her  eyes  were  flashing. 

"  Jim,"  she  said,  "  ain't  got  any  love  or  kind- 
ness or  consideration  in  him !  Jim  thinks  that 
Lily  ain't  got  any  more  feelin's  than  a  puppy 
dog — 'cause  she  can't  answer  back.  Oh,"  in 
response  to  the  question  in  Rose-Marie's  face, 
"  oh,  he'd  never  put  a  finger  on  her — not  that ! 
But  he  don't  speak  kind  to  her,  like  we  do. 
It's  enough  fer  him  that  she  can't  hear  th' 
words  he  lays  his  tongue  to.  Even  Pa " 

Suddenly,  as  if  in  answer  to  his  spoken 
name,  there  came  a  scuffling  sound  from  the 
corner  where  Pa  was  sleeping.  All  at  once  the 
empty  bottle  dropped  from  the  unclenched 
hand,  the  mouth  fell  open  in  a  prodigious 
yawn,  the  eyes  became  wide,  burned-out  wells 
of  drunkenness.  And  as  she  watched,  Rose- 
Marie  saw  the  room  cleared  in  an  amazing 
fashion.  She  heard  Mrs.  Volsky's  terrified 
whisper,  "  He's  wakin'  up!  "  She  heard  Jim's 
harsh  laugh;  she  saw  Ella,  with  a  fiercely 
maternal  sweep  of  her  strong  arms,  gather  the 
little  Lily  close  to  her  breast  and  dart  toward 
the  inner  room.  And  then,  as  she  stood 
dazedly  watching  the  mountain  of  sodden 
flesh  that  was  Pa  rear  itself  to  a  sitting  pos- 
ture, and  then  to  a  standing  one,  she  felt  a  hot 
little  hand  touch  her  own. 


60  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

"  We  better  clear  out,"  said  the  voice  of 
Bennie.  "  We  better  clear  out  pretty  quick ! 
Pa's  awful  bad,  sometimes,  when  he's  just 
wakin'  up ! " 

With  a  quickness  not  unlike  the  bump  at 
the  end  of  a  falling- through-space  dream, 
Rose-Marie  felt  herself  drawn  from  the  room 
— heard  the  door  close  with  a  slam  behind 
her.  And  then  she  was  hurrying  after  the 
shadowy  form  of  Bennie,  down  the  five  rickety 
flights  of  stairs — past  the  same  varied  odours 
and  the  same  appalling  sounds  that  she  had 
noticed  on  the  way  up ! 


VIII 
ANOTHER  QUARREL 

WHEN  Rose-Marie  came  out  into  the 
sunlight  of  the  street  she  glanced 
at  her  watch  and  saw,  with  an  al- 
most overwhelming  surprise,  that  it  was  only 
four  o'clock.  It  was  just  an  hour  since  she 
had  entered  the  cavern-like  doorway  of  the 
tenement.  But  in  that  hour  she  had  come,  for 
the  first  time,  against  life  in  the  rough.  She 
had  seen  degeneracy,  and  poverty,  and — she 
was  thinking  of  the  expression  in  Jim's  eyes — 
a  menace  that  she  did  not  at  all  understand. 
She  had  seen  the  waste  of  broken  middle  age 
and  the  pity  of  blighted  childhood.  She  had 
seen  fear  and,  if  she  had  stayed  a  few  mo- 
ments longer,  she  would  have  seen  downright 
brutality.  Her  hand,  reaching  out,  clutched 
Bennie's  hand. 

"  Dear,"  she  said — and  realized,  from  the 
startled  expression  of  his  eyes,  that  he  had  not 
often  been  called  "  Dear," — "  is  it  always  like 
that,  in  your  home  ?  " 

Bennie  looked  up  into  her  eyes.  He  seemed, 
61 


62  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

somehow,  younger  than  he  had  appeared  the 
day  before,  younger  and  softer. 

"  Yes,  Miss,"  he  told  her,  "  it's  always  like 
that,  except  when  it's  worse !  " 

"And,"  Rose-Marie  was  still  asking  ques- 
tions, "  do  your  older  sister  and  brother  just 
drift  in,  at  any  time,  like  that?  And  is  your 
father  home  in  the  middle  of  the  day  ?  Don't 
any  of  them  work?  " 

Bennie's  barriers  of  shyness  had  been  burned 
away  by  the  warmth  of  her  friendship.  He 
was  in  a  mood  to  tell  anything. 

"  Pa,  he  works  sometimes,"  he  said.  "  An' 
Ella — she  uster  work  till  she  had  a  fight  with 
her  boss  last  week.  An'  now  she  says  she  ain't 
gotta  work  no  more  'cause  there's  a  feller  as 
will  give  her  everythin'  she  wants,  if  she  says 
th'  word!  An'  Jim — I  ain't  never  seen  him 
do  nothin',  but  he  always  has  a  awful  lot  o* 
money.  He  must  do  his  workin'  at  night — 
after  I'm  asleep !  " 

Rose-Marie,  her  mind  working  rapidly, 
realized  that  Bennie  had  given  revelations  of 
which  he  did  not  even  dream.  Pa — his  con- 
dition was  what  she  had  supposed  it  to  be — 
but  Ella  was  drifting  toward  danger-shoals 
that  she  had  never  imagined !  Well  she  knew 
the  conditions  under  which  a  girl  of  Ella's 
financial  status  stops  working — she  had  heard 


ANOTHER  QTJAREEL  63 

many  such  cases  discussed,  with  an  amazing 
frankness,  during  her  short  stay  at  the  Settle- 
ment House.  And  Jim — Jim  with  his  sleek, 
patent-leather  hair,  and  his  rat-like  face — Jim 
did  his  work  at  night!  Rose-Marie  could  not 
suppress  the  shudder  that  ran  over  her. 
Quickly  she  changed  the  subject  to  the  one 
bright  spot  in  the  Volsky  family — to  Lily. 

"  Your  little  sister,"  she  asked  Bennie,  "  has 
she  always  been  as  she  is  now?  Wasn't  there 
ever  a  time  when  she  could  hear,  or  speak,  or 
see?" 

Bennie  winked  back  a  suspicion  of  tears  be- 
fore he  answered.  Rose-Marie,  who  found 
herself  almost  forgetting  the  episode  of  the 
kitten,  liked  him  better  for  the  tears.  "  Yes, 
Miss,"  he  told  her,  "  she  was  born  all  healthy, 
Ma  says.  But  she  had  a  sickness — when  she 
was  a  baby.  An'  she  ain't  been  right  since !  " 

They  walked  the  rest  of  the  way  in  silence 
— a  silence  of  untold  depth.  But  it  was  that 
silent  walk,  Rose-Marie  felt  afterward,  that 
cemented  the  strange  affection  that  had  sprung 
suddenly  into  flower  between  them.  As  they 
said  good-bye,  in  front  of  the  brownstone 
stoop  of  the  Settlement  House,  there  was  none 
of  the  usual  restraint  that  exists  between  a 
child  and  a  grown-up.  And  when  Rose-Marie 
asked  Bennie,  quite  as  a  matter  of  course,  to 


64  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

come  to  some  of  their  boys'  clubs  he  assented 
in  a  manner  as  casual  as  her  own. 

As  she  sat  down  to  dinner,  that  night,  Rose- 
Marie  was  beaming  with  happiness  and  the 
pride  of  achievement.  The  Superintendent, 
tired  after  the  day's  work,  noticed  her  radiance 
with  a  wearily  sympathetic  smile — the  Young 
Doctor,  coming  in  briskly  from  his  round  of 
calls,  was  aware  of  her  pink  cheeks  and  her 
sparkling  eyes.  All  at  once  he  realized  that 
Rose-Marie  was  a  distinct  addition  to  the  hum- 
drum life  of  the  place;  that  she  was  like  a 
sweet  old-fashioned  garden  set  down  in  the 
gardenless  slums.  He  started  to  say  some- 
thing of  the  sort  before  he  remembered  that  a 
quarrel  lay,  starkly,  between  them. 

Rose-Marie,  herself,  could  scarcely  have 
told  why  she  was  so  bubbling  over  with  glad- 
ness. When  she  left  the  tenement  home  of  the 
Volskys  she  had  been  exceedingly  depressed, 
when  she  parted  from  Bennie  at  the  Settle- 
ment House  steps  she  had  been  ready  to  cry. 
But  the  hours  between  that  parting  and  dinner- 
time had  brought  her  a  sort  of  assurance,  a 
sort  of  joyous  bravery.  She  felt  that  at  last 
she  had  found  her  true  vocation,  her  real  place 
in  the  sun.  The  Volsky  family  presented  to 
her  a  very  genuine  challenge. 


ANOTHEE  QUAEEBL  65 

She  glanced,  covertly,  at  the  Young  Doctor. 
He  was  eating  soup,  and  no  man  is  at  his  best 
while  eating  soup.  And  yet  as  she  watched 
him,  she  considered  very  seriously  whether  she 
should  tell  him  of  her  adventure.  His  skill 
might,  perhaps,  find  some  way  out  for  Lily, 
who  had  not  been  born  a  mute,  who  had  come 
into  the  world  with  seeing  eyes.  Bennie  had 
told  her  that  the  child's  condition  was  the  re- 
sult of  an  illness.  Perhaps  the  Young  Doctor 
might  be  able  to  effect  at  least  a  partial  cure. 
Perhaps  it  was  selfish  of  her — utterly,  absurdly 
selfish,  to  keep  the  situation  to  herself. 

The  Superintendent's  voice  broke,  sharply, 
into  her  reverie.  It  was  a  pleasant  voice,  and 
yet  Rose-Marie  found  herself  resenting  its 
questioning  tone. 

"  Did  you  have  a  pleasant  afternoon,  dear?  " 
the  Superintendent  was  asking.  "  I  noticed 
that  you  were  out  for  a  long  while,  alone !  " 

"Why,  yes,"  Rose-Marie  faltered,  as  she 
spoke,  and,  to  her  annoyance,  she  could  feel 
the  red  wave  of  a  blush  creeping  up  over  her 
face  (Rose-Marie  had  never  learned  to  con- 
trol her  blushes).  "Why,  yes,  I  had  a  very 
delightful  afternoon ! " 

The  Young  Doctor,  glancing  up  from  his 
soup,  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  tease.  Rose- 
Marie,  with  her  cheeks  all  flushed,  made  a 


66  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

startlingly  colourful,  extremely  young  pic- 
ture. 

"  You're  blushing !  "  he  told  her  accusingly. 
"You' re  blushing!" 

Rose-Marie,  feeling  the  blushes  creep  still 
higher,  knew  a  rude  impulse  to  slap  the  Young 
Doctor.  All  of  her  desire  to  confide  in  him 
died  away,  as  suddenly  as  it  had  been  born. 
He  was  the  man  who  had  said  that  the  people 
who  lived  in  poverty  are  soulless.  He  would 
scoff  at  the  Volskys,  and  at  her  desire  to  help 
them.  Worse  than  that — he  might  keep  her 
from  seeing  the  Volskys  again.  And,  in  keep- 
ing her  from  seeing  them,  he  would  also  keep 
her  from  making  Bennie  into  a  real,  whole- 
some boy — he  would  keep  her  from  showing 
Ella  the  dangers  of  the  precipice  that  she  was 
skirting.  Of  course,  he  might  help  Lily.  But, 
Rose-Marie  told  herself  that  perhaps  even 
Lily — golden-haired,  angelic  little  Lily — might 
seem  soulless  to  him. 

"  I'm  not  blushing,  Dr.  Blanchard,"  she  said 
shortly,  and  could  have  bitten  her  tongue  for 
saying  it. 

The  Young  Doctor  laughed  with  a  boyish 
vigour. 

"  I  thought,"  he  said  annoyingly,  "  that  you 
were  a  Christian,  Miss  Rose-Marie  Thomp- 
son!" 


ANOTHER  QUAEEEL  67 

Rose-Marie  felt  a  tide  of  quite  definite  anger 
rising  in  her  heart. 

"  I  am  a  Christian !  "  she  retorted. 

"  Then,"  the  Young  Doctor  was  still  laugh- 
ing, "  then  you  must  never,  never  tell  un- 
truths. You  are  blushing! " 

The  Superintendent  interrupted.  It  had 
been  her  role,  lately,  to  interrupt  quarrels  be- 
tween the  two  who  sat  on  either  side  of  her 
table. 

"Don't  tease,  Billy  Blanchard!"  she  said, 
sternly.  "If  Rose-Marie  went  anywhere  this 
afternoon,  she  certainly  had  a  right  to.  And 
she  also  has  a  right  to  blush.  I'm  glad,  in  these 
sophisticated  days,  to  see  a  girl  who  can 
blush!" 

The  Young  Doctor  was  leaning  back  in  his 
chair,  surveying  the  pair  of  them  with  uncon- 
cealed amusement. 

"  How  you  women  do  stick  together !  "  he 
said.  "  Talk  about  men  being  clannish !  I 
believe,"  he  chuckled,  "  from  the  way  Miss 
Thompson  is  blushing,  that  she's  got  a  very 
best  beau!  I  believe  that  she  was  out  with 
him,  this  afternoon !  " 

Rose-Marie,  who  had  always  been  taught 
that  deceit  is  wicked,  felt  a  sudden,  unexplain- 
able  urge  to  be  wicked !  She  told  herself  that 
she  hated  Dr.  Blanchard — she  told  herself  that 


68  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

he  was  the  most  unsympathetic  of  men!  His 
eyes,  fixed  mirthfully  upon  her,  brought  words 
— that  she  scarcely  meant  to  say — to  her  lips. 

"  Well,"  she  answered  slowly  and  distinctly, 
"what  if  I  was?" 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  And 
then — with  something  of  an  effort — the  Su- 
perintendent spoke. 

"  I  told  you,"  she  said,  "  not  to  bother  Rose- 
Marie,  Doctor.  If  Rose-Marie  was  out  with 
a  young  man  I'm  sure  that  she  had  every  right 
to  be.  Rose-Marie  " — was  it  possible  that  her 
eyes  were  fixed  a  shade  inquiringly  upon  the 
blushing  girl — "would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  any  one  who  had  not  been  approved  by 
her  aunts.  And  she  realizes  that  she  is,  in  a 
way,  under  my  care — that  I  am  more  or  less 
responsible  for  her  safety  and  welfare.  Rose- 
Marie  is  trustworthy,  absolutely  trustworthy. 
And  she  is  old  enough  to  take  care  of  herself. 
You  must  not  bother  her,  Billy  Blanchard !  " 

It  was  a  long  speech  for  the  Superintendent, 
and  it  was  a  kindly  one.  It  was  also  a  speech 
to  invite  confidences.  But — strangely  enough 
— Rose-Marie  could  not  help  feeling  that  there 
was  a  question  half  concealed  in  the  kindliness 
of  it.  She  could  not  help  feeling  that  the  Su- 
perintendent was  just  a  trifle  worried  over  the 
prospect  of  an  unknown  young  man. 


ANOTHEE  QUAEEEL  69 

It  was  her  time,  then,  to  admit  that  there 
was  nobody,  really — that  she  had  gone  out  on 
an  adventure  by  herself,  that  there  had  been 
no  "  beau."  But  the  consciousness  of  the 
Young  Doctor's  eyes,  fixed  upon  her  face,  pro- 
hibited all  speech.  She  could  not  tell  him 
about  the  Volskys — neither  could  she  admit 
that  no  young  man  was  interested  in  her. 
Every  girl  wants  to  seem  popular  in  the  eyes 
of  some  member  of  the  opposite  sex — even 
though  that  member  may  be  an  unpleasant  per- 
son— whom  she  dislikes.  And  so,  with  a  feel- 
ing of  utter  meanness  in  her  soul — with  a  real 
weight  of  deceit  upon  her  heart — she  smiled 
into  the  Superintendent's  anxious  face. 

"  I  do  appreciate  the  way  you  feel  about 
me,"  she  said  softly,  "  I  do,  indeed !  You  may 
be  sure  that  I  won't  do  anything  that  either 
you,  or  my  aunts,  would  disapprove  of !  " 

After  all,  she  assured  herself  a  trifle  uncom- 
fortably, she  had  in  no  way  told  a  direct  false- 
hood. They  had  assumed  too  much  and  she 
had  not  corrected  their  assumptions.  She  said 
fiercely,  in  her  heart,  that  she  was  not  to  blame 
if  they  insisted  upon  taking  things  for  granted ! 


IX 

AND  ANOTHER         | 

AS   the   days   crept   into  weeks,   Rose* 
Marie  no  longer  felt  the  dull  unrest  of 
inaction.    She  was  busy  at  the  Settle- 
ment House — her  clubs  for  mothers  and  young 
girls,  her  kindergarten  for  the  little  tots,  had 
grown  amazingly  popular.     And  at  the  times 
when  she  was  not  busy  at  the   Settlement 
House,  she  had  the  Volsky  family  and  their 
many  problems  to  occupy  her. 

The  Volsky  family — and  their  many  prob- 
lems! Rose-Marie  would  have  found  it  hard 
to  tell  which  problem  was  the  most  important ! 
Of  course  Lily  came  first — her  infirmities  and 
her  sweetness  made  her  the  central  figure.  But 
the  problem  of  Ella  was  a  more  vital  one  to 
watch — it  was,  somehow,  more  immediate. 
Rose-Marie  had  found  it  hard  to  reach  Ella 
— except  when  Lily  was  the  topic  of  conver- 
sation; except  when  Lily's  welfare  was  to  be 
considered,  she  stayed  silently  in  the  back- 
ground. But  the  flashings  of  her  great  dark 
eyes,  the  quiverings  of  her  too  scarlet  mouth, 
were  ominous.  Rose-Marie  could  see  that  the 
70 


AND  ANOTHEB  71 

untidiness  of  the  flat,  the  drunken  mutterings 
of  Pa,  and  her  mother's  carelessness  and  dirt 
had  strained  Ella's  resistance  to  the  breaking 
point.  Some  day  there  would  be  a  crash  and, 
upon  that  day  Ella  would  disappear  like  a 
gorgeous  butterfly  that  drifts  across  the  road, 
and  out  of  sight.  Rose-Marie  was  hoping  to 
push  that  day  into  the  background — to  make 
it  only  a  dim  uncertainty  rather  than  the 
sword  of  Damocles  that  it  was.  But  she  could 
only  hope. 

Bennie,  too,  was  a  problem.  But  it  was 
Bennie  who  cheered  Rose-Marie  when  she  felt 
that  her  efforts  in  behalf  of  Ella  were  failing. 
For  Bennie's  brain  was  the  fertile  ground  in 
which  she  could  plant  ideals,  and  dreams. 
Bennie  was  young  enough  to  change,  and 
easily.  He  got  into  the  way  of  waiting  for  her, 
after  his  school  had  been  dismissed,  in  the  little 
park.  And  there,  seated  close  together  on  an 
iron  bench,  they  would  talk;  and  Rose-Marie 
would  tell  endless  stories.  Most  of  the  stories 
were  about  knights  who  rode  upon  gallant 
quests,  and  about  old-time  courtesy,  and  about 
wonderful  animals.  But  sometimes  she  told 
him  of  her  home  in  the  country — of  apple  trees 
in  bloom,  and  frail  arbutus  hiding  under  the 
snow.  She  told  him  of  coasting  parties,  and 
bonfires,  and  trees  to  climb.  And  he  listened, 


72  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

star-eyed  and  adoring.  They  made  a  pretty 
picture  together — the  slim,  rosy-cheeked  girl 
and  the  ragged  little  boy,  with  the  pale,  city 
sunshine  falling,  like  a  mist,  all  about  them. 

Lily  and  Ella  and  Bennie — Rose-Marie 
loved  them,  all  three.  But  Jim  Volsky  was  the 
unsolvable  problem — the  one  that  she  tried  to 
push  to  the  back  of  her  mind,  to  avoid.  Mrs. 
Volsky  and  Pa  she  gave  up  as  nearly  hopeless 
— she  kept,  as  much  as  possible,  out  of  Pa's 
way,  and  Mrs.  Volsky  could  only  be  helped 
in  the  attaining  of  creature  comforts — her 
spirit  seemed  dead !  But  Jim  insisted  upon  in- 
truding upon  her  moments  in  the  flat ;  he  mon- 
opolized conversations,  and  asked  impertinent 
questions,  and  stared.  More  than  once  he  had 
offered  to  "  walk  her  home  "  as  she  was  leav- 
ing; more  than  once  he  had  thrust  himself 
menacingly  across  her  path.  But  she  had  man- 
aged, neatly,  to  avoid  him. 

Rose-Marie  was  afraid  of  Jim.  She  ad- 
mitted it  to  herself — she  even  admitted,  at 
times,  that  the  Young  Doctor  might  be  of  as- 
sistance if  any  emergency  should  arise  out  of 
Jim's  sleek  persistence.  She  had  noticed,  from 
the  first,  that  the  doctor  was  an  impressive  man 
among  men — she  had  seen  the  encouraging 
swell  of  muscles  through  the  warm  tweed  of 
his  coat  sleeve.  But  to  have  asked  his  help  in 


AND  ANOTHER  73 

the  controlling  of  Jim  would  have  been  an  ad- 
mission of  deceit,  of  weakness,  of  failure !  To 
prove  her  own  theory  that  the  people  were  real, 
underneath — to  prove  that  they  had  some  sort 
of  a  code,  and  worth-while  impulses — she  had 
to  make  the  reformation  of  the  Volsky  family 
her  own,  individual  task. 

Yes — Rose-Marie  was  busy.  Almost  she 
hated  to  give  up  moments  of  her  time  to  the 
letters  she  had  to  write  home — to  the  sewing 
that  she  had  to  do.  She  made  few  friends 
among  the  teachers  and  visitors  who  thronged 
the  Settlement  House  by  day — she  was  far  too 
tired,  when  night  came,  to  meet  with  the 
Young  Doctor  and  the  Superintendent  in  the 
cosy  little  living-room.  But  often  when  her 
activities  lasted  well  along  into  the  evening, 
often  when  her  clubs  gave  sociables  or  enter- 
tainments, she  was  forced  to  welcome  the 
Young  Doctor  (the  Superintendent  was  al- 
ways welcome)  ;  to  make  room  for  him  beside 
her  own  place. 

It  was  during  one  of  these  entertainments 
— her  Girls'  Sewing  Society  was  giving  a 
party — that  she  and  the  Young  Doctor  had 
their  first  real  talk.  Before  the  quarrel  at  the 
luncheon  table  they  had  had  little  time  to- 
gether; since  the  quarrel  the  Young  Doctor 
had  seldom  been  able  to  corner  Rose-Marie. 


74  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

But  at  the  entertainment  they  were  placed,  by 
the  hand  of  circumstance,  upon  a  wooden 
settee  in  the  back  of  the  room.  And  there,  for 
the  better  part  of  two  hours — while  Katie 
Syrop  declaimed  poetry  and  Helen  Merskov- 
sky  played  upon  the  piano,  and  others  recited 
long  and  monotonous  dialogues — they  were 
forced  to  stay. 

The  Young  Doctor  was  in  a  chastened  mood. 
He  applauded  heartily  whenever  a  part  of  the 
program  came  to  a  close;  the  comments  that 
he  made  behind  his  hand  were  neither  sarcas- 
tic nor  condescending.  He  praised  the  work 
that  Rose-Marie  had  done  and  then,  while  she 
was  glowing — almost  against  her  will — from 
the  warmth  of  that  praise,  he  ventured  a  re- 
mark that  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  work. 

"  When  I  see  you,"  he  told  her  very  seri- 
ously, "  when  I  see  you,  sitting  here  in  one  of 
our  gray  coloured  meeting  rooms,  I  can't  help 
thinking  how  appropriate  your  name  is.  Rose- 
Marie — there's  a  flower,  isn't  there,  that's 
named  Rosemary  ?  I  like  flowery  names !  " 

Rose-Marie  laughed,  as  lightly  as  she  could, 
to  cover  a  strange  feeling  of  embarrassment. 

"  Most  people  don't  like  them,"  she  said — 
"  flowery  names,  I  mean.  I  don't  myself.  I 
like  names  like  Jane,  and  Anne,  and  Nancy. 
I  like  names  like  Phyllis  and  Sarah.  I've  al- 


AND  ANOTHEE  75 

ways  felt  that  my  first  name  didn't  fit  my  last 
one.  Thompson,"  she  was  warming  to  her 
subject,  "  is  such  a  matter-of-fact  name. 
There's  no  romance  in  it.  But  Rose- 
Marie  " 

The  Young  Doctor  interrupted. 

"  But  Rose-Marie,"  he  finished  for  her,  "  is 
teeming  with  romance !  It  suggests  vague  per- 
fumes, and  twilight  in  the  country,  and  gay  lit- 
tle lights  shining  through  the  dusk.  It  sug- 
gests poetry." 

Rose-Marie  had  folded  her  hands,  softly,  in 
her  lap.  Her  eyes  were  bent  upon  them. 

"  My  mother,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was 
quiet  and  tender,  "loved  poetry.  I've  heard 
how  she  used  to  read  it  every  afternoon,  in 
her  garden.  She  loved  perfumes,  too,  and  twi- 
light in  the  country.  My  mother  was  the  sort 
of  a  woman  who  would  have  found  the  city  a 
bit  hard,  I  think,  to  live  in.  Beauty  meant 
such  a  lot — to  her.  She  gave  me  my  name  be- 
cause she  thought,  just  as  you  think,  that  it 
had  a  hint  of  lovely  things  in  it.  And,  even 
though  I  sometimes  feel  that  I'd  like  a  plainer 
one,  I  can't  be  sorry  that  she  gave  it  to  me. 
For  it  was  a  part  of  her — a  gift  that  was  built 
out  of  her  imagination,"  all  at  once  she 
coughed,  perhaps  to  cover  the  slight  tremor 
in  her  voice,  and  then — 


76  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

"  To  change  the  subject,"  she  said,  "  I'll  tell 
you  what  Rosemary  really  is.  You  said  that 
you  thought  it  was  a  flower.  It's  more  than  a 
flower,"  she  laughed  shakily,  "  it's  a  sturdy, 
evergreeny  sort  of  little  shrub.  It  has  a  clean 
fragrance,  a  trifle  like  mint.  And  it  bears 
small  blue  blossoms.  Folk  say  that  it  stands 
for  remembrance,"  suddenly  her  eyes  were 
down,  again,  upon  her  clasped  hands.  "  Let's 
stop  talking  about  flowers  and  the  country — 

and  mothers "  she  said  suddenly.  Her 

voice  broke  upon  the  last  word. 

The  Young  Doctor's  understanding  glance 
was  on  the  girl's  down-bent  face.  After  a 
moment  he  spoke. 

"  Are  you  ever  sorry  that  you  left  the  home 
town,  Miss  Rose-Marie  ?  "  he  questioned. 

Rose-Marie  looked  at  him,  for  a  moment, 
to  see  whether  he  was  serious.  And  then,  as 
no  flicker  of  mirth  stirred  his  mouth,  she  an- 
swered. 

"  Sometimes  I'm  homesick,"  she  said. 
"  Usually  after  the  lights  are  out,  at  night. 
But  I'm  never  sorry !  " 

The  Young  Doctor  was  staring  off  into 
space — past  the  raised  platform  where  the 
girls  of  the  club  were  performing. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  said,  after  a  moment,  "  I 
wonder  if  you  can  imagine  what  it  is  to  have 


AND  ANOTHER  77 

nothing  in  the  world  to  be  lonesome  for,  Miss 
Rose-Marie  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  felt  a  quick  wave  of  sympathy 
toward  him. 

"  My  mother  and  my  father  are  dead,  Dr. 
Blanchard — you  know  that,"  she  told  him, 
"  but  my  aunts  have  always  been  splendid,"  she 
added  honestly,  "  and  I  have  any  number  of 
friends !  No,  I've  never  felt  at  all  alone !  " 

The  Young  Doctor  was  silent  for  a  moment. 
And  then — 

"  It  isn't  an  alone  feeling  that  I  mean,"  he 
told  her,  "  not  exactly !  It's  rather  an  empty 
feeling!  Like  hunger,  almost.  You  see  my 
father  and  mother  are  dead,  too.  I  can't  even 
remember  them.  And  I  never  had  any  aunts 
to  be  splendid  to  me.  My  childhood — even 
my  babyhood — was  spent  in  an  orphan  asylum 
with  a  firm-fisted  matron  who  punished  me; 
with  nobody  to  give  me  the  love  I  needed.  I 
came  out  of  it  a  hard  man — at  fourteen. 
I "  he  broke  off,  suddenly,  and  then — 

"  I  don't  know  why  I'm  telling  you  all  this," 
he  said;  "you  wouldn't  be  in  the  least  inter- 
ested in  my  school  days — they  were  pretty 
drab!  And  you  wouldn't  be  interested  in  the 
scholarship  that  gave  me  my  profession. 
For,"  his  tone  changed  slightly,  "you  aren't 
even  interested  in  the  result — not  enough  to 


78  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

try  to  understand  my  point  of  view,  when  I 
attempt  to  tell  you,  frankly,  just  what  I  think 
of  the  people  down  here — barring  girls  like 
these,"  he  pointed  to  the  stage,  "  and  a  few; 
others  who  are  working  hard  to  make  good! 
You  act,  when  I  say  that  they're  like  animals, 
as  if  I'm  giving  you  a  personal  insult!  You 
think,  when  I  suggest  that  you  don't  go, 
promiscuously,  into  dirty  tenements,  that  I'm 
trying  to  curb  your  ambition — to  spoil  your 
chances  of  doing  good!  But  I'm  not,  really. 
I'm  only  endeavouring,  for  your  own  protec- 
tion, to  give  you  the  benefit  of  my  rather  bit- 
ter experience.  I  don't  want  any  one  so 
young,  and  trusting  and — yes,  beautiful — as 
you  are,  to  be  forced  by  experience  into  my 
point  of  view.  We  love  having  you  here,  at 
the  Settlement  House.  But  I  almost  wish  that 
you'd  go  home — back  to  the  place  and  the  peo- 
ple that  you're  lonesome  for — after  the  lights 
are  out ! " 

Rose-Marie,  watching  the  play  of  expres- 
sion across  his  keen  dark  face,  was  struck,  first 
of  all  by  his  sincerity.  It  was  only  after  a  mo- 
ment that  she  began  to  feel  the  old  resentment 
creeping  back. 

"  Then,"  she  said  at  last,  very  slowly,  "  then 
you  think  that  I'm  worthless  here?  It  seems 
to  me  that  I  can  help  the  people  more,  just  be* 


AIsTD  ANOTHEE  79 

cause  I  am  fresh,  and  untried,  and  not  in  the 
least  bitter !  It  seems  to  me  that  by  direct  con- 
tact with  them  I  may  be  able  to  show  them  the 
tender,  guiding  hand  of  God — as  it  has  always 
been  revealed  to  me.  But  you  think  that  I'm 
worthless ! " 

There  was  a  burst  of  loud  singing  from  the 
raised  platform.  The  girls  of  the  sewing  club 
loved  to  sing.  But  neither  Rose-Marie  nor  the 
Young  Doctor  was  conscious  of  it. 

"No,"  the  Young  Doctor  answered,  also 
very  slowly,  "  no,  I  don't  think  that  you  are 
worthless — not  at  all.  But  I'm  almost  inclined 
to  think  that  you're  wasted.  Go  home,  child, 
go  home  to  the  little  town!  Go  home  before 
the  beautiful  colour  has  worn  off  the  edge  of 
your  dreams ! " 

Again  Rose-Marie  felt  the  swift  burst  of 
anger  that  she  had  felt  upon  other  occasions. 
Why  did  he  persist  in  treating  her  like  a  child  ? 
But  her  voice  was  steady  as  she  answered. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I'm  afraid  that  I'll  have 
to  disappoint  you!  For  I  came  here  with  a 
definite  plan  to  carry  out.  And  I'm  going  to 
stay  here  until  I've  at  least  partly  made  good !  " 

The  Young  Doctor  was  watching  her  flushed 
face.  He  answered  almost  regretfully. 

"  Then,"  he  said,  "  I'm  glad  that  you  have  a 
sweetheart — you  didn't  deny  it,  you  know,  the 


80  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

other  night!  He'll  take  you  away  from  the 
slums,  I  reckon,  before  very  long !  He'll  take 
you  away  before  you've  been  hurt!  " 

Rose-Marie,  looking  straight  ahead,  did  not 
answer.  But  the  weight  of  deceit  upon  her 
soul  made  her  feel  very  wicked. 

Yes,  the  weight  of  deceit  upon  her  soul  made 
her  feel  very  wicked!  But  later  that  night, 
after  the  club  members  had  gone  home,  dizzy 
with  many  honours,  it  was  not  the  weight  of 
deceit  that  troubled  her.  As  she  crept  into  her 
narrow  little  bed  she  was  all  at  once  very  sorry 
for  herself;  and  for  a  vanished  dream!  Dr. 
Blanchard  could  be  so  nice — when  he  wanted 
to.  He  could  be  so  understanding,  so  sympa- 
thetic !  There  on  the  bench  in  the  rear  of  the 
room  they  had  been,  for  a  moment,  very  close 
together.  She  had  nearly  come  back,  during 
their  few  minutes  of  really  intimate  conversa- 
tion, to  her  first  glowing  impression  of  him. 
And  then  he  had  changed  so  suddenly — had  so 
abruptly  thrust  aside  the  little  house  of  friend- 
ship that  they  had  begun  to  build.  "  If  he 
would  only  let  me,"  she  told  herself,  "  I  could 
teach  him  to  like  the  things  I  like.  If  he  would 
only  understand  I  could  explain  just  how  I  feel 
about  people.  If  he  would  only  give  me  a 
chance  I  could  keep  him  from  being  so  lonely." 

Rose-Marie  had  known  few  men.     The  boys 


AND  ANOTHEE  81 

of  her  own  town  she  scarcely  regarded  as 
men — they  were  old  playmates,  that  was  all. 
No  one  stood  out  from  the  other,  they  were 
strikingly  similar.  They  had  carried  her 
books  to  school,  had  shared  apples  with  her, 
had  played  escort  to  prayer-meetings  and  to 
parties.  But  none  of  them  had  ever  stirred 
her  imagination  as  the  Young  Doctor  stirred 
it. 

There  in  the  dark  Rose-Marie  felt  herself 
blushing.  Could  it  be  possible  that  she  felt  an 
interest  in  the  Young  Doctor,  an  interest  that 
was  more  than  a  casual  interest?  Could  it  be 
possible  that  she  liked  a  man  who  showed 
plainly,  upon  every  possible  occasion,  that  he 
did  not  like  her?  Could  it  be  possible  that  a 
person  who  read  sensational  stories,  who  did 
not  believe  in  the  greatness  of  human  nature, 
who  refused  to  go  to  church,  attracted  her? 

Of  a  sudden  she  had  flounced  out  of  bed; 
had  shrugged  her  slender  little  body  into  a 
shapeless  wrapper — the  parting  gift  of  a  girl 
friend — from  which  her  small  flushed  face 
seemed  to  grow  like  some  delicate  spring  blos- 
som. With  hurried  steps — she  might  almost 
have  been  running  away  from  something — she 
crossed  the  room  to  a  small  table  that  served 
as  a  combination  dresser  and  writing  desk. 
Brushing  aside  her  modest  toilet  articles,  she 


82  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

reached  for  a  pad  of  paper  and  a  small  busi- 
ness-like fountain  pen.  Her  aunts — she 
wanted  them,  all  at  once,  and  badly.  She 
wished  that  she  might  talk  with  them — writing 
seemed  so  inadequate. 

"  My  dears,"  she  began,  "  I  miss  you  very 
much.  Often  I'm  lonely  enough  to  cry.  Of 
course,"  she  added  hastily  (for  they  must  not 
worry),  "  of  course,  every  one  is  nice  to  me. 
I  like  every  one,  too.  That  is,  except  Dr. 
Blanchard.  I  guess  I  told  you  about  him ;  he's 
the  resident  physician.  He's  awfully  good 
looking  but  he's  not  very  pleasant.  I  never 
hated  any  one  so "  she  paused,  for  a  mo- 
ment, as  a  round  tear  splashed  devastatingly 
down  upon  the  paper. 


X 

MRS.  VOLSKY  PROMISES  TO  TRY 

AS  Lily  pattered  across  the  room,  on  her 
soft,  almost  noiseless  little  feet,  Rose- 
Marie  stopped  talking.  She  had  been 
having  one  of  her  rare  conversations  alone 
with  Mrs.  Volsky — a  conversation  that  she 
had  almost  schemed  for — and  yet  she  stopped. 
It  struck  her  suddenly  as  strange  that  Lily's 
presence  in  any  place  should  make  such  a  vast 
difference — that  the  child  should  bring  with 
her  a  healing  silence  and  a  curious  tenderness. 
She  had  felt,  many  times  before,  a  slowing  up 
in  conversations — she  had  seen  the  bitterness 
drain  from  Ella's  face,  the  stolidness  from 
Bennie's.  She  had  even  seen  Pa,  half  intox- 
icated, turn  and  go  quietly  from  a  room  that 
Lily  was  entering.  And  now,  as  she  watched, 
she  saw  a  spark  leap  into  the  dullness  of  Mrs. 
Volsky's  eyes. 

With  a  gentle  hand  she  reached  out  to  the 
child,  drew  her  close.  Lily  nestled  against  her 
side  with  a  slight  smile  upon  her  faintly  coral 
lips,  with  her  blue,  vacant  gaze  fixed  upon 
space — or  upon  something  that  they  could  not 
see !  Rose-Marie  had  often  felt  that  Lily  was 
83 


84  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

watching  beautiful  vistas  with  those  sightless 
eyes  of  hers;  that  she  was  hearing  wonderful 
sounds,  with  her  useless  little  ears — sounds 
that  normal  people  could  not  hear.  But  she 
did  not  say  anything  of  the  sort  to  Mrs.  Vol- 
sky — Mrs.  Volsky  would  not  have  been  able  to 
understand.  Instead  she  spoke  of  something 
else  that  had  lain,  for  a  long  time,  upon  her 
mind. 

"  Has  Lily  ever  received  any  medical  at- 
tention?" she  asked  abruptly. 

Mrs.  Volsky's  face  took  on  lines  of  blank- 
ness.  "What  say?  "she  mouthed  thickly.  "I 
don'  understan'  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  reconstructed  her  question. 

"Has  Lily  ever  been  taken  to  a  doctor?" 
she  asked. 

Mrs.  Volsky  answered  more  quickly  than 
she  usually  answered  questions. 

"  When  she  was  first  sick,  years  ago,"  she 
told  Rose-Marie,  "  she  had  a  doctor  then.  He 
say — no  help  f er  her.  Las'  year  Ella,  she  took 
Lily  by  a  free  clinic.  But  the  doctors,  there, 
they  say  Lily  never  get  no  better.  And  if 
there  comes  another  doctor  to  our  door, 

now "  she  shrugged ;  and  her  shrug  seemed 

to  indicate  the  uselessness  of  all  doctors. 

Rose-Marie,  with  suddenly  misting  eyes, 
lifted  Lily  to  her  knee.  ..."  The  only 


MES.  VOLSKY  PEOMISES  TO  TEY    85 

times,"  she  said  slowly,  "when  I  feel  any 
doubt  in  my  mind  of  the  Divine  Plan — are  the 
times  when  I  see  little  children,  who  have  never 
done  anything  at  all  wicked  or  wrong,  bearing 
pain  and  suffering  and  ..."  she  broke 
off. 

Mrs.  Volsky  answered,  as  she  almost  always 
answered,  with  a  mechanical  question. 

"  What  say  ?  "  she  murmured  dully. 

Rose-Marie  eyed  her,  over  the  top  of  Lily's 
golden  head.  After  all,  she  told  herself,  in 
the  case  of  Mrs.  Volsky  she  could  see  the  point 
of  Dr.  Blanchard's  assertion !  She  had  known 
many  animals  who  apparently  were  quicker  to 
reason,  who  apparently  had  more  enthusiasm 
and  ambition,  than  Mrs.  Volsky.  She  looked 
at  the  dingy  apron,  the  unkempt  hair,  the  sag- 
ging flesh  upon  the  gray  cheeks.  And  she  was 
conscious  suddenly  of  a  feeling  of  revulsion. 
She  fought  it  back  savagely. 

"Christ,"  she  told  herself,  "never  turned 
away  from  people  because  they  were  dirty,  or 
ugly,  or  stupid.  Christ  loved  everybody — no 
matter  how  low  they  were.  He  would  have 
loved  Mrs.  Volsky." 

It  was  curious  how  it  gave  her  strength — 
that  reflection — strength  to  look  straight  at 
the  woman  in  front  of  her,  and  to  smile. 

"  Why,"  she  asked,  and  the  smile  became 


86  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

brighter  as  she  asked  it,  "  why  don't  you  try 
to  fix  your  hair  more  neatly,  Mrs.  Volsky? 
And  why  don't  you  wear  fresh  aprons,  and 
keep  the  flat  cleaner?  Why  don't  you  try  to 
make  your  children's  home  more  pleasant  for 
them?" 

Mrs.  Volsky  did  not  resent  the  suggestion  as 
some  other  women  might  have  done.  Mrs. 
Volsky  had  reached  the  point  where  she  no 
longer  resented  even  blows. 

"  I  uster  try — onct,"  she  said  tonelessly, 
"  but  it  ain't  no  good,  no  more.  Ella  an'  Ben- 
nie  an'  Jim  don'  care.  An'  Pa — he  musses  up 
th'  flat  whenever  he  comes  inter  it.  An'  Lily 
can't  see  how  it  looks.  So  what's  th'  use  ?  " 

It  was  a  surprisingly  long  speech  for  Mrs. 
Volsky.  And  some  of  it  showed  a  certain 
reasoning  power.  Rose-Marie  told  herself,  in 
all  fairness,  that  if  she  were  Mrs.  Volsky — she, 
too,  might  be  inclined  to  ask  "What's  th' 
use  ?  "  She  leaned  forward,  searching  desper- 
ately in  her  mind  for  something  to  say. 

"  Do  you  like  me,  Mrs.  Volsky  ?  "  she  ques- 
tioned at  last,  "  Do  you  like  me  ?  " 

The  woman  nodded,  and  again  the  sugges- 
tion of  a  light  flamed  up  in  her  eyes. 

"  Sure  I  like  you,"  she  said,  "  you  are  good 
to  all  of  us — an'  to  Lily." 

"  Then,"  Rose-Marie's  voice  was  quivering 


MES.  VOLSKY  PEOMI8ES  TO  TEY    87 

with  eagerness,  "then  won't  you  try — for 
my  sake — to  make  things  here,"  the  sweep  of 
her  hand  included  every  corner  of  the  ugly 
room,  "  a  little  better  ?  I'll  help  you,  very 
gladly.  I'll  make  new  aprons  for  you,  and 
I'll" — her  brave  resolution  faltered,  but  only 
for  a  moment — "  I'll  wash  your  hair,  and  take 
you  to  the  free  baths  with  me.  And  then," 
she  had  a  sudden  inspiration,  "  then  Lily  will 
love  to  touch  you,  you'll  be  so  nice  and  clean ! 
Then  Lily  will  be  glad  that  she  has  you  for  a 
mother !  " 

All  at  once  the  shell  of  stupidity  had  slipped 
from  Mrs.  Volsky's  bent  shoulders.  All  at 
once  she  was  eager,  breathlessly  eager. 

"  Miss,"  she  said,  and  one  thin,  dingy  hand 
was  laid  appealingly  upon  Rose-Marie's  dress, 
"  Miss,  you  can  do  wit'  me  as  you  wish  to !  If 
you  t'ink  dat  my  bein'  clean  will  make  Lily 
glad  " — she  made  a  sudden  impetuous  gesture 
with  her  hand — "  den  I  will  be  clean!  If  you 
t'ink  dat  she  will  like  better  dat  I  should  be 
her  mother,"  the  word,  on  her  lips,  was  sur- 
prisingly sweet,  "  den  I  will  do — any  f  ing!  " 
All  at  once  she  broke  into  phrases  that  were 
foreign  to  Rose-Marie,  phrases  spoken  lovingly 
in  some  almost  forgotten  tongue.  And  the  girl 
knew  that  she  was  quite  forgotten — that  the 
drab  woman  was  dreaming  over  some  youthful 


88  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

hope,  was  voicing  tenderly  the  promises  of  a 
long  dead  yesterday,  and  was  making  an  im- 
passioned pledge  to  her  small  daughter  and  to 
the  future!  The  words  that  she  spoke  might 
be  in  the  language  of  another  land — but  the 
tone  was  unmistakable,  was  universal. 

Rose-Marie,  listening  to  her,  felt  a  sudden 
desire  to  kneel  there,  on  the  dirty  tenement 
floor,  and  say  a  little  prayer  of  thanksgiving. 
Once  again  she  had  proved  that  she  was 
right — and  that  the  Young  Doctor  was  wrong. 


XI 


BENNIE  COMES  TO  THE  SETTLE- 
MENT HOUSE 

IT  was  Bennie  who  came  first  to  the  Settle- 
ment House.  Shyly,  almost,  he  slipped 
through  the  great  doors — as  one  who 
seeks  something  that  he  does  not  quite  under- 
stand. As  he  came,  a  gray  kitten,  creeping 
out  from  the  shadows  of  the  hall,  rubbed  af- 
fectionately against  his  leg.  And  Bennie,  half 
unconsciously — and  with  absolutely  no  recog- 
nition— stooped  to  pat  its  head.  Rose-Marie 
would  have  cried  with  joy  to  have  seen  him  do 
it,  but  Rose-Marie  was  in  another  part  of  the 
building,  teaching  tiny  children  to  embroider 
outlines,  with  gay  wool,  upon  perforated  bits 
of  cardboard.  The  Young  Doctor,  passing  by 
the  half-opened  door  of  the  kindergarten 
room,  saw  her  there  and  paused  for  a  moment 
to  enjoy  the  sight.  He  thought,  with  a  curi- 
ous tightening  of  his  lips,  as  he  left  noiselessly, 
that  some  day  Rose-Marie  would  be  sur- 
rounded by  her  own  children — far  away  from 
the  Settlement  House.  And  he  was  surprised 
at  the  sick  feeling  that  the  thought  gave  him. 
89 


90  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

"  I've  been  rather  a  fool,"  he  told  himself 
savagely,  "  trying  to  send  her  away.  I've  been 
a  fool.  But  I'd  never  known  anything  like 
her — not  in  all  of  my  life !  And  it  makes  me 
shiver  to  think  of  what  one  meeting  with  some 
unscrupulous  gangster  would  do  to  her  point 
of  view.  It  makes  me  want  to  fight  the  world 
when  I  realize  how  an  unpleasant  experience 
would  affect  her  love  of  people.  I'd  rather 
never  see  her  again,"  he  was  surprised,  for  a 
second  time,  at  the  pain  that  the  words  caused 
him,  "  than  to  have  her  made  unhappy.  I 
hope  that  this  man  of  hers  is  a  regular  fel- 
low!" 

He  passed  on  down  the  hall.  He  walked 
slowly,  the  vision  of  Rose-Marie,  a  dream 
child  held  close  to  her  breast,  before  his  eyes. 
That  was  why,  perhaps,  he  did  not  see  Bennie 
— why  he  stumbled  against  the  boy. 

"  Hello,"  he  said  gruffly,  for  his  voice  was 
just  a  trifle  hoarse  (voices  get  that  way  some- 
times, when  visions  will  stay  in  front  of  one's 
eyes!)  "Hello,  youngster!  Do  you  want 
anything?  Or  are  you  just  looking  around?  " 

Bennie  straightened  up.  The  kitten  that  he 
had  been  patting  rubbed  reassuringly  against 
his  legs,  but  Bennie  needed  more  reassurance 
than  the  affection  of  a  kitten  can  give.  The 
kindness  of  Rose-Marie,  the  stories  that  she 


BENNIE  91 

had  told  him,  had  given  him  a  great  deal  of 
confidence.  But  he  had  not  yet  learned  to 
stand  up,  fearlessly,  to  a  big  man  with  a  gruff 
voice.  It  is  a  step  forward  to  have  stopped 
hurting  the  smaller  things.  But  to  accept  a 
pretty  lady's  assurance  that  things  larger  than 
you  will  be  kind — that  is  almost  too  much  to 
expect !  Bennie  answered  just  a  shade  shrink- 
ingly. 

"  Th'  kids  in  school,"  he  muttered,  "  tol*  me 
'bout  a  club  they  come  to  here.  It's  a  sort  of 
a  Scout  Club.  They  wears  soldier  clo's.  An* 
they  does  things  fer  people.  An'  I  wanter 
b'long,"  he  gulped,  noisily. 

The  Young  Doctor  leaned  against  the  wall. 
He  did  not  realize  how  tall  and  strong  he 
looked,  leaning  there,  or  he  could  not  have 
smiled  so  whimsically.  To  him  the  small  dark 
boy  with  his  earnest  face,  standing  beside  the 
gray  kitten,  was  just  an  interesting,  rather 
lovable  joke. 

"  Which  do  you  want  most,"  he  questioned, 
"  to  wear  soldier  clothes,  or  to  do  things  for 
people  ?  " 

Bennie  gulped  again,  and  shuffled  his  feet. 
His  voice  came,  at  last,  rather  thickly. 

"  I  sorter  want  to  do  things  fer  people !  "  he 
said. 

More  than  anything  else  the  Young  Doctor 


92  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

hated  folk,  even  children,  who  say  or  do  things 
for  effect.  And  he  knew  well  the  lure  that 
soldier  clothes  hold  for  the  small  boy. 

"  Say,  youngster,"  he  inquired  in  a  not  too 
gentle  voice,  "  are  you  trying  to  bluff  me  ?  Or 
do  you  really  mean  what  you're  saying?  And 
if  you  do — why?  " 

Bennie  had  never  been  a  quitter.  By  an 
effort  he  steadied  his  voice. 

"  I  mean,"  he  said,  "  what  I'm  a-tellin'  yer. 
I  wanter  be  a  good  boy.  My  pa,  he  drinks. 

He  drinks  like "  The  word  he  used,  in 

description,  was  not  the  sort  of  a  word  that 
should  have  issued  from  childish  lips.  "An* 
my  big  brother — he  ain't  like  Pa,  but  he's  a 
bum,  too!  I  don't  wanter  be  like  they  are — 
not  if  I  kin  help  it !  I  wanter  be  th'  sort  of  a 
guy  King  Arthur  was,  an'  them  knights  of 
his'n.  I  wanter  be  like  that  there  St.  George 
feller,  as  killed  dragons.  I  wanter  do  real 
things,"  unconsciously  he  was  quoting  from 
the  gospel  of  Rose-Marie,  "wi'  my  life!  I 
wanter  be  a  good  husban'  an'  father " 

All  at  once  the  Young  Doctor  was  laughing. 
It  was  not  an  unkind  laugh — it  gave  Bennie 
heart  to  listen  to  it — but  it  was  exceedingly 
mirthful.  Bennie  could  not  know  that  the  idea 
of  himself,  as  a  husband  and  father,  was  send- 
ing this  tall  man  into  such  spasms  of  merri- 


93 

ment — he  could  not  know  that  it  was  rather 
incongruous  to  picture  his  small  grubby  form 
in  the  shining  armour  of  St.  George  or  of  King 
Arthur.  But,  being  glad  that  the  doctor  was 
not  angry,  he  smiled  too — his  strange,  twisted 
little  smile. 

The  Young  Doctor  stopped  laughing  almost 
as  quickly  as  he  had  begun.  With  something 
of  interest  in  his  face  he  surveyed  the  little 
ragged  boy. 

"Where,"  he  questioned  after  a  moment, 
"  did  you  learn  all  of  that  stuff  about  knights, 
and  saints,  and  doing  things  with  your  life, 
and  husbands  and  fathers?  Who  told  you 
about  it?" 

Bennie  hesitated  a  moment.  Perhaps  he 
was  wondering  who  had  given  this  stranger  a 
right  to  pry  into  his  inner  shrine.  Perhaps  he 
was  wondering  if  Rose-Marie  would  like  an 
outsider  to  know  just  what  she  had  told  him. 
When  he  answered,  his  answer  was  evasive. 

"A  lady  told  me,"  he  said.     "A  lady." 

The  Young  Doctor  was  laughing  again. 

"And  I  suppose,"  he  remarked,  with  an  ef- 
fort at  solemnity,  "  that  gentlemen  don't  pass 
ladies'  names  about  between  'em — I  suppose 
that  you  wouldn't  tell  me  who  this  lady  of 
yours  may  be,  even  though  I'd  like  to  meet 
her?" 


94  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

Bennie's  lips  closed  in  a  hard  little  line  that 
quirked  up  at  one  end.  He  shook  his  head. 

"  I'd  ruther  not,"  he  said  very  slowly. 
"  Say— where's  th'  Scout  Club?  " 

The  Young  Doctor  shook  his  head. 

"  It's  such  a  strange,  old-fashioned,  young 
person ! "  he  informed  the  empty  hallway. 
And  then — "  Come  with  me,  youngster,"  he 
said  kindly,  "  and  we'll  find  this  very  wonder- 
ful club  where  small  boys  learn  about  doing 
things  for  people — and,  incidentally,  wear  sol- 
dier clothes ! " 

Bennie,  following  stealthily  behind  him,  felt 
that  he  had  found  another  friend — something 
like  his  lady,  only  different ! 


XII 
AN  ISLAND 

ROSE-MARIE  was  exceptionally  weary 
that  night.  It  had  been  a  hard  day. 
All  three  of  her  classes  had  met,  and 
— late  in  the  afternoon — she  had  made  good 
her  promise  to  wash  Mrs.  Volsky's  hair.  The 
task  had  not  been  a  joyous  one — she  felt  that 
she  could  never  wash  hair  again — not  even  her 
own  soft  curls  or  the  fine,  snowy  locks  that 
crowned  her  aunts'  stately  heads.  Mrs.  Volsky 
had  once  more  relapsed  into  her  shell  of  si- 
lence— she  had  seemed  more  apathetic,  more 
dull  than  ever.  But  Rose-Marie  had  noticed 
that  there  were  no  unwashed  dishes  lying  in 
the  tub — that  the  corners  of  the  room  had  had 
some  of  the  grime  of  months  swept  out  of 
them.  When  Ella  Volsky  came  suddenly 
into  the  flat,  with  lips  compressed,  and  a  high 
colour,  Rose-Marie  had  been  glowingly  con- 
scious of  her  start  of  surprise.  And  when  she 
had  said,  haltingly,  in  reference  to  the  hair — 
"  I'll  dry  it  for  you,  Miss  Rose-Marie !  "  Rose- 
95 


96  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

Marie  could  have  wept  with  happiness.  It  was 
the  first  time  that  she  had  ever  heard  Ella  offer 
to  do  anything  for  her  mother. 

Jim — coming  in  as  she  was  about  to  leave — 
had  added  to  Rose-Marie's  weariness.  He 
had  been  more  insistent  than  usual — he  had 
commented  upon  her  rosy  cheeks  and  he  had 
,made  a  laughing  reference  to  her  wide  eyes. 
And  he  had  asked  her,  gruffly,  why  she  didn't 
take  up  with  some  feller  like  himself — a  good 
provider,  an'  all,  that'd  doll  her  up  the  way 
she'd  oughter  be  dolled  up?  And  when  Ella 
had  interrupted,  her  dark  eyes  flashing,  he  had 
told  her — with  a  burst  of  soul-chilling  profan- 
ity— to  mind  her  own  business. 

And  then  Pa  had  come  in — apparently  more 
drunk  than  he  had  ever  been.  And  Rose- 
Marie  had  seen  his  bleary  eyes  pass,  without  a 
flicker  of  interest,  over  his  wife's  clean  apron 
and  freshly  washed  hair ;  had  seen  him  throw 
his  coat  and  his  empty  bottle  into  one  of  the 
newly  dusted  corners,  had  seen  his  collapse  into 
a  heap  in  the  center  of  the  room.  And,  last  of 
all,  as  she  had  hurried  away,  with  Jim's  final 
insinuation  ringing  in  her  ears,  she  had  known 
the  fear  that  all  was  not  well  with  Bennie — 
for  Bennie  came  in  every  afternoon  before  she 
left.  She  could  not  know  that  Bennie,  by  this 
time  a  budding  Boy  Scout,  was  learning 


AN  ISLAND  97 

more  lessons  of  the  sort  that  she  had  taught 
him. 

Yes,  she  was  weary,  in  every  fibre  of  her 
being,  as  she  sat  down  to  supper  that  night. 
She  had  it  quite  alone  in  the  dining-room, 
which,  all  at  once,  seemed  very  large — for  the 
Superintendent  was  sitting,  somewhere,  with  a 
dying  woman,  and  the  Young  Doctor  had  been 
called  out  on  an  emergency  case.  And  then, 
still  alone,  she  wandered  into  the  library  of  the 
Settlement  House  and  picked  up  a  book.  She 
felt,  somehow,  too  tired  to  sleep — too  utterly 
exhausted  to  lay  her  head  upon  her  pillow. 
It  was  in  the  library  that  the  Superintendent, 
coming  wearily  back  from  the  watch  with 
death,  found  her. 

"My  dear,"  said  the  Superintendent,  and 
there  was  a  sound  of  tears  in  her  usually  steady 
voice,  "my  dear,  I'm  about  all  in!  Yes,  I 
know  it's  slang,  but  I  can't  help  it — I  feel 
slangy!  Come  up  to  my  sitting-room  for  a 
few  minutes  and  we'll  have  a  cup  of  hot 
chocolate ! " 

Rose -Marie  laid  down  her  book  with 
alacrity.  She  realized,  suddenly,  that  she 
wanted  companionship  of  her  own  sort — that 
she  longed  with  all  of  her  soul  to  chat  with 
some  one  who  did  not  murder  the  queen's 
English,  that  she  wanted  to  exchange  common- 


98  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

places  about  books,  and  music,  and  beautiful 
things — things  that  the  Volskys  would  not 
understand. 

"  I  guess,"  she  said,  as  she  followed  the 
Superintendent  into  the  cozy  sitting-room,  "  I 
guess  that  tiredness  is  in  the  air  to-day.  I'm 
all  in,  myself.  A  cup  of  chocolate  and  a 
friendly  talk  will  be  a  godsend  to  me,  this  even- 
ing!" 

The  Superintendent  was  laying  aside  her 
coat  and  her  hat.  She  smoothed  her  hair 
with  a  nervous  hand,  and  straightened  her 
linen  collar,  before  she  sank  into  an  easy 
chair. 

"  Child,"  she  said  abruptly,  "  you  shouldn't 
be  tired — not  ever!  You've  got  youth,  and 
all  of  the  world  at  your  feet.  You've  got 
beauty,  and  confidence,  and  faith.  And  I — 
well,  I'm  getting  to  be  an  old  woman !  I  feel 
sometimes  as  if  I've  been  sitting  on  the  win- 
dow sill,  watching  life  go  by,  for  centuries. 

You  mustn't "  She  paused,  and  there 

was  a  sudden  change  in  her  voice,  "  You're  not 
tiring  yourself,  Rose-Marie?  You're  not  do- 
ing more  than  your  strength  will  permit?  If 
you  could  have  read  the  letter  that  your  aunts 
sent  to  me,  when  you  first  came  to  the  Settle- 
ment House!  I  tell  you,  child,  I've  felt  my 
responsibility  keenly!  I'd  no  more  think  of 


AN  ISLAND  99 

letting  you  brush  up  against  the  sort  of  facts 
I'm  facing,  than  I  would " 

Rose-Marie's  cheeks  were  flushed,  her  eyes 
were  bright,  as  she  interrupted. 

"  Somehow,"  she  said,  "  I  can't  think  that 
you  and  my  aunts  are  quite  right  about  shield- 
ing me — about  keeping  me  from  brushing  up 
against  life,  and  the  real  facts  of  life.  It  seems 
to  me  that  there's  only  one  way  to  develop — 
really.  And  that  way  is  to  learn  to  accept 
things  as  they  come;  to  meet  situations — no 
matter  how  appalling  they  may  be,  with  one's 
eyes  open.  If  I,"  she  was  warming  to  her 
subject,  "  am  never  to  tire  myself  out,  working 
for  others,  how  am  I  to  help  them?  If  I 
am  never  to  see  conditions  as  they  are  how  am 
I  ever  to  know  the  sort  of  a  problem  that  we, 
here  at  the  Settlement  House,  are  fighting? 
Dr.  Blanchard  wouldn't  try  to  treat  a  case  if 
he  had  no  knowledge  of  medicine — he  wouldn't 
try  to  set  a  broken  leg  if  he  had  never  studied 
anatomy.  You  wouldn't  be  in  cha'rge,  here,  if 
you  didn't  know  the  district,  if  you  didn't 
realize  the  psychological  reasons  back  of  the 
things  that  the  people  of  the  district  say  and 
do.  Without  the  knowledge  that  you're  trying 
to  keep  from  me  you'd  be  as  useless  as  " — she 
faltered— "as  I  am!" 

The    Superintendent's    expression   reflected 


100  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

all  the  tenderness  of  her  nature;  the  mother- 
instinct,  which  she  had  never  known,  made  her 
smile  into  the  girl's  serious  face. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  "  you  must  not  think 
that  you're  useless.  You  must  never  think 
that !  Look  at  the  success  you've  had  in  your 
club  work — remember  how  the  children  that 
you  teach  have  come  to  love  you.  You've 
done  more  with  them,  because  of  the  things 
that  you  don't  know,  than  I  could  ever  do — de- 
spite the  hard  facts  that  I've  had  to  brush  up 
against.  Find  content,  dear,  in  being  the 
sweet  place  in  our  garden — that  has  so  piti- 
fully few  flowers.  Do  not  long  for  the  hard, 
uncomfortable  places  on  the  other  side  of  the 
garden  wall ! " 

Despite  the  Superintendent's  expression — 
despite  the  gentle  tone  of  her  voice,  Rose- 
Marie  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  cry  out  against 
the  irony  of  it  all.  She  was  so  tired  of  being 
classed  with  the  flowers!  "They  toil  not, 
neither  do  they  spin,"  came  back  to  her,  from 
a  certain  golden  text  that  she  had  learned,  long 
ago,  in  Sunday-school.  Even  at  the  time  it 
had  seemed  to  her  as  if  the  flowers  enjoyed 
lives  that  were  a  shade  too  easy !  At  the  time 
it  had  seemed  unfair  that  they,  who  were  not 
workers,  should  be  beautiful — more  beautiful 
than  the  ants,  for  instance,  that  uncom- 


AN  ISLAND  101 

plainingly  toiled  all  day  long  for  their  exist- 
ence. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  a  flower,"  she  ex- 
claimed, almost  fretfully,  "  I  want  to  be  a 
worth  while  member  of  society — that's  what 
I  want !  What's  the  use  of  being  a  decoration 
in  a  garden !  What's  the  use  of  knowing  only 
the  sunshine?  I  want  to  know  storms,  too, 
and  gales  of  wind.  I  want  to  share  the  tem- 
pests that  you  go  through !  "  She  hesitated ; 
and  then — "  I  read  a  book  once,"  she  said 
slowly,  "  I  forget  what  it  was — but  I  remem- 
ber, in  one  place,  that  a  woman  was  being  dis- 
cussed. She  was  a  very  beautiful  elderly 
woman  who,  despite  her  age,  had  a  face  as 
unlined  and  calm  as  a  young  girl's  face  could 
be.  One  character  in  the  book  commented 
upon  the  woman's  youth  and  charm,  and  an- 
other character  agreed  that  she  was  beautiful 
and  charming,  but  that  she'd  be  worth  more 
if  she  had  a  few  lines  on  her  face.  '  She's 
never  known  tears,'  the  character  said,  *  she's 
never  lived  deeply  enough  to  know  tears !  Her 
life  has  been  just  a  surface  life.  If  you  go 
down  deep  enough  into  the  earth  you  find 
water,  always.  If  you  go  down  deep  enough 
into  life  you  invariably  find  tears.  It's  one 
of  the  unbreakable  rules ! ' '  Rose-Marie 
paused,  for  a  moment,  and  stole  a  covert 


102  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

glance  at  the  Superintendent's  face.  "  You 
don't  want  me  to  be  a  woman  whose  life  is 
only  a  surface  life,"  she  pleaded,  "  and  it  will 
be  just  that  if  you  keep  me  from  helping,  as 
I  want  to  help!  You  don't  want  me  to  have 
a  perfectly  unlined  face  when  I'm  eighty  years 
old?" 

All  at  once  the  Superintendent  was  laughing. 
"  You  child ! "  she  exclaimed  when  the  first 
spasm  of  mirth  had  passed,  "you  blessed 
child!  If  you  could  know  how  ridiculously 
young  you  looked,  sitting  there  and  talking 
about  lined  faces — and  yourself  at  eighty. 
Eighty  is  a  long  way  off,  Rose-Marie — for 
you!" 

The  girl  joined,  a  trifle  shamefacedly,  in  the 
older  woman's  laughter. 

"  I  reckon,"  she  agreed,  "  that  I  do  take  my- 
self too  seriously!  But — well,  there  are  fam- 
ilies that  I'm  just  dying  to  help — families  that 
I've  come  in  contact  with  through  the  " — again 
she  was  forced  to  a  slight  deceit — "  through  the 
Settlement  House.  I'm  sure  that  I  could  help 
them  if  you'd  let  me  visit  them,  in  their  own 
homes.  I'm  sure  that  I'd  be  able  to  reform 
ever  so  many  people -if  you'd  only  let  me  go 
out  and  find  them.  The  city  missionary  who 
spoke  once  in  our  church,  back  home,  told  of 
wonderful  things  that  he'd  done— of  lives  that 


AJS  ISLAND  103 

he'd  actually  made  over.  Of  course,  I  couldn't 
do  the  sort  of  work  he  did,  but  I'm  sure — if 
you'd  only  give  me  a  chance "  She  paused. 

The  Superintendent  was  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment. And  then — 

"  Maybe  you're  right,  dear,"  she  said,  "  and 
maybe  you're  wrong.  Maybe  I  am  cramping 
your  ambitions — maybe  I  am  hampering  your 
mental  and  spiritual  growth.  But  then,  again, 
maybe  I'm  right!  And  I'm  inclined  to  think 
that  I  am  right.  I'm  inclined  to  adhere  to  my 
point,  that  it  will  be  better  for  you  to  wait,  until 
you're  older,  before  you  go  into  many  tene- 
ments— before  you  do  much  reforming  out- 
side of  the  Settlement  House.  When  you're 
older  and  more  experienced  I'll  be  glad  to  let 
you  do  anything " 

She  was  interrupted  by  a  rap  upon  the  door. 
It  was  a  gentle  rap,  but  it  was,  above  all,  a 
masculine  one.  There  was  real  gladness  on 
her  face  as  she  rose  to  answer  it. 

"  I  didn't  expect  Billy  Blanchard — he 
thought  he  had  an  all-night  case,"  she  told 
Rose-Marie.  "  How  nice !  " 

But  Rose-Marie  was  rising  to  her  feet. 

"  I  don't  think  that  I'll  stay,"  she  said  hur- 
riedly, "  I'm  too  tired,  after  all !  I  think " 

The  Superintendent  had  paused  in  her  prog- 
ress to  the  door.  Her  voice  was  surprisingly 


104  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

firm,  of  a  sudden ;  firmer  than  Rose-Marie  had 
ever  heard  it. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  said  the  Superintendent, 
"you're  not  too  tired!  You  just  don't  want 
to  be  civil  to  a  very  fine  boy — who  has  had  a 
harder  day  than  either  of  us.  You  came  to 
the  slums,  Rose-Marie,  to  help  people — to 
show  that  you  were  a  Christian.  I  think  that 
you  can  show  it,  to-night,  by  forgetting  a  silly 
quarrel  that  happened  weeks  ago — by  forget- 
ting the  words  Dr.  Blanchard  said  that  he  never 
really  meant,  inside.  If  he  thought  that  these 
people  weren't  worth  it,  do  you  suppose  he'd 
stay  here,  at  the  Settlement  House,  for  a  mere 
pittance?  He's  had  many  a  chance  to  go  to 
fashionable  hospitals,  up-town !  " 

Rose-Marie,  bewildered,  and  not  a  little 
ashamed,  sank  back  into  her  seat  as  the  Super- 
intendent swung  open  the  door. 

The  Young  Doctor  came  in  with  a  spring- 
ing step,  but  there  were  gray  lines  that  spoke 
of  extreme  fatigue  about  his  mouth,  and  his 
eyes  were  darkly  circled.  His  surprise,  at  the 
sight  of  Rose-Marie,  was  evident — though  he 
tried  to  hide  it  by  the  breeziness  of  his  manner. 

"  You'll  be  glad  to  know,"  he  told  the  Su- 
perintendent, "  that  the  stork  has  called  on  the 
Stefan  family.  It's  a  boy — nine  pounds — with 
lots  of  dark  hair.  There  have  been  three  girls, 


AN  ISLAND  105 

in  the  Stefan  family,"  he  explained  to  Rose- 
Marie,  "  and  so  they  are  wild  with  joy  at  this 
latest  addition.  Papa  Stefan  is  strutting  about 
like  a  proud  turkey,  with  his  chest  out.  And 
Mamma  Stefan  is  trying  to  sing  a  lullaby.  I 
feel  something  like  a  tool  in  the  hand  of 
Providence,  to-night ! "  He  threw  himself 
upon  the  sofa. 

There  was  deep,  motherly  affection  in  the 
Superintendent's  face  as  she  smiled  at  him. 

"We're  all  of  us  mental  and  physical 
wrecks  this  evening,  Billy !  "  she  said.  "  I  think 
that  I've  never  been  so  utterly  worn  out  be- 
fore. Katie'*  (Katie  was  the  stolid  maid) 
"  is  making  chocolate  for  us !  " 

"  Chocolate !  "  The  Young  Doctor's  glance 
answered  the  affection  that  shone  out  of  the 
Superintendent's  face — "  You  are  a  dear !  " 
He  smiled  at  her,  and  then — all  at  once — 
turned  swiftly  to  Rose-Marie. 

"  Don't  let's  squabble  to-night,"  he  said 
childishly,  "  not  about  anything !  We're  dog- 
tired,  all  three  of  us,  and  we're  not  up  to  even 
a  tiny  quarrel.  I'm  willing  to  admit  anything 
you  want  me  to — even  that  I'm  wrong  on  a  lot 
of  subjects.  And  I  want  you  to  admit,  your- 
self, that  you'd  rather  be  here,  with  the  two  of 
us,  than  out  in  some  den  of  iniquity — reform- 
ing people.  Am  I  right  ?  " 


106  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

Rose-Marie  felt  a  glow  of  friendship  toward 
the  Young  Doctor.  Why  couldn't  he  always 
be  like  this — confiding  and  boyish  and  ap- 
proachable ?  She  smiled  at  him,  very  sweetly, 
'as  she  answered. 

"  You're  right,"  she  admitted.  "  I'm  afraid 
that  I  haven't  the  heart  to  think  of  reforming 
any  one,  this  evening!  I'm  just  glad — 
glad  from  the  very  soul  of  me — to  be  here 
with  you  all,  in  the  very  center  of  this — is- 
land!" 

The  Superintendent's  face  was  puzzled — the 
Superintendent's  eyes  were  vague  —  as  she 
asked  a  question. 

"  You  said — island?  "  she  questioned. 

Rose-Marie  laughed  with  a  shade  of  embar- 
rassment. 

"  I  didn't  really  mean  to  say  island,"  she  ex- 
plained, "but — well,  you  remember  what  Dr. 
Blanchard  told  us,  once,  about  the  little  bugs 
that  fastened  together — first  one  and  then  an- 
other until  there  were  billions  ?  And  how,  at 
last,  they  made  an  island  ?  "  She  paused  and, 
at  their  nods  of  assent,  went  on.  "  Ever  since 
then,"  she  told  them  slowly,  "  I've  thought  of 
us,  here  at  the  Settlement  House,  as  the  first 
little  bugs — the  ones  that  the  others  must  hold 
to.  And  I've  felt,  though  many  of  them  don't 
realize  it,  though  we  hardly  realize  it  ourselves, 


AN  ISLAND  107 

that  we're  building  an  island  together~^an  ir- 
land  of  faith! " 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  And  then 
the  Young  Doctor  spoke.  His  voice  was  a 
trifle  husky. 

"  You've  made  me  more  than  a  bit  ashamed 
of  myself,  Miss  Rose-Marie,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
want  to  thank  you  for  putting  a  real  symbolism 
into  my  chance  words.  After  all  " — suddenly 
he  laughed,  and  then — "  after  all,"  he  said, 
"  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  you  are  right!  I 
had  a  curious  experience,  this  afternoon,  that 
would  go  to  prove  your  theory." 

The  Superintendent  was  leaning  back, 
shielding  her  eyes  from  the  light.  "  Tell  us 
about  your  experience,  Billy,"  she  said. 

The  chocolate  had  come,  and  the  Young 
Doctor  took  an  appreciative  sip  before  he  an- 
swered. 

"Just  as  I  was  going  out  this  afternoon," 
he  said,  at  last,  "  I  ran  into  a  dirty  little  boy 
in  the  hall.  He  was  fondling  a  kitten — that 
thin  gray  one  that  you  brought  to  the  Settle- 
ment House,  Miss  Rose-Marie.  I  asked  him 
what  he  was  doing  and  he  told  me  that  he  was 
hunting  for  a  Scout  Club  that  he'd  heard 
about.  I  " — the  Young  Doctor  chuckled — "  I 
engaged  him  in  conversation.  And  he  told  me 
that  his  ambition  was  to  be  a  combination  of 


108  LTHE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

St.  George  and  King  Arthur  and  all  the  rest  of 
those  fellows.  He  said  that,  some  day,  he 
wanted  to  be  a  good  husband  and  father. 
When  I  asked  him  where  he  got  his  large  am- 
bitions he  told  me  that  a  lady  had  given  them 
to  him." 

Rose-Marie  was  leaning  forward.  "  Did  he 
tell  you  the  lady's  name?  "  she  breathed. 

The  Young  Doctor  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  a  thing  did  he  tell  me !  "  he  said  dra- 
matically. "The  lady's  name  seemed  to  be 
something  in  the  nature  of  a  sacred  trust  to 
him.  But  his  big  dark  eyes  were  full  of  the 
spirit  that  she'd  given  him.  And  his  funny 

little  crooked  mouth  was "  He  paused, 

suddenly,  his  gaze  fixed  upon  Rose-Marie. 
"  What's  the  matter?  "  he  queried.  "  What's 
the  matter?  You  look  as  if  somebody'd  just 
left  you  a  million  dollars ! " 

Rose-Marie's  face  was  flushed  and  radiant. 
Her  eyes  were  deep  wells  of  joy. 

"  I  have  every  reason  in  the  world,"  she  said 
softly,  "  to  be  happy !  "  And  she  was  too  ab- 
sorbed in  her  own  thoughts  to  realize  that  a 
sudden  cloud  had  crept  across  the  brightness 
of  the  Young  Doctor's  face. 


XIII 

I 

ELLA  MAKES  A  DECISION 

AND  then  the  climax  of  Ella's  life— the 
crash  that  Rose -Marie  had  been 
expecting  —  happened.  It  happened 
when  Ella  came  furiously  into  the  Volsky  flat, 
early  one  afternoon,  and — ignoring  the  little 
Lily,  who  sat  placidly  on  Rose-Marie's  lap — 
hurried  silently  into  her  own  room.  Mrs. 
Volsky,  bending  over  the  wash-tubs,  straight- 
ened up  as  if  she  could  almost  feel  the  electric 
quality  of  the  air,  as  Ella  passed  her,  but  Rose- 
Marie  only  held  tighter  to  Lily — as  if,  some- 
how, the  slim  little  body  gave  her  comfort. 

"  I  wonder  what's  the  matter  ?  "  she  ven- 
tured, after  a  moment. 

Mrs.  Volsky,  again  bending  over  the  wash- 
tubs,  answered. 

"Ella,  she  act  so  funny,  lately,"  she  told 
Rose-Marie,  "  an'  there  is  some  feller;  Bennie, 
he  tell  me  that  he  have  seen  her  wit'  some  fel- 
ler !  A  rich  feller,  maybe ;  maybe  he  puts  Ella 
up  to  her  funny  business !  " 

There  were  sounds  of  activity  from  the  in- 
109 


110  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

ner  room,  as  if  clothing  was  being  torn  down 
from  hooks — as  if  heavy  garments  were  being 
flung  into  bags.  Rose-Marie  listened,  appre- 
hensively, to  the  sounds  before  she  spoke  again. 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  go  in  and  see  what's  the 
matter,"  she  suggested. 

Mrs.  Volsky,  looking  back  over  her  shoul- 
der, gave  a  helpless  little  shrug.  "If  you 
t'inks  best,"  she  said  hopelessly.  "  But  Ella — 
she  not  never  want  to  take  any  help.  .  .  ." 

Only  too  well  Rose-Marie  knew  what  Mrs. 
Volsky  meant  by  her  twisted  sentence.  Only 
too  well  she  understood  that  Ella  would  never 
allow  herself  to  be  biased  by  another's  judg- 
ment,— that  Ella  would  not  allow  herself  to  be 
moved  by  another's  plea.  And  yet  she  set  Lily 
gently  down  upon  the  floor  and  rose  to  her 
feet. 

"  I'll  see  what  she's  doing,"  she  told  Mrs. 
Volsky,  and  pushed  open  the  inner  door. 

Despite  all  of  the  time  that  she  had  spent  in 
the  Volsky  flat,  Rose-Marie  had  never  been 
past  the  front  room  with  its  tumbled  heaps  of 
bedding,  and  its  dirt.  She  was  surprised  to 
see  that  the  inner  room,  shared  by  Ella  and 
Lily,  was  exquisitely  neat,  though  tiny.  There 
were  no  windows — the  only  light  came  from  a 
rusty  gas  fixture  —  but  Rose-Marie,  after 
months  in  the  slums,  was  prepared  for  that. 


ELLA  MAKES  A  DECISION          111 

It  was  the  geranium,  blooming  on  the  shabby 
table,  that  caught  her  eye;  it  was  the  clean 
hair-brush,  lying  on  the  same  table,  and  the 
framed  picture  of  a  Madonna,  upon  the  wall, 
that  attracted  her.  She  spoke  of  them,  first, 
to  the  girl  who  knelt  on  the  floor,  packing  a 
cheap  suit-case — spoke  of  them  before  she 
questioned  gently: 

"  You're  not  going  away,  are  you,  Ella?  " 

Ella  glanced  up  from  her  packing. 

"  Yes,  I'm  going  away ! "  she  said,  shortly. 
And  then,  as  if  against  her  will,  she  added: 

"  I  got  th'  flower  an'  th'  picture  for  Lily. 
Oh,  sure,  I  know  that  she  can't  see  'em !  But 
I  sorter  feel  that  she  knows  they're  here !  " 

Rose-Marie's  voice  was  very  soft,  as  she 
spoke  again. 

"  I'm  glad  that  you  chose  the  picture  you 
did,"  she  said,  "  the  picture  of  the  Christ  Child 
and  His  Mother!" 

Ella  wadded  a  heavy  dress  into  the  suit-case. 

"  I  don't  hold  much  with  religious  pictures," 
she  said,  without  looking  up ;  "  religion  never 
did  much  f  er  me !  I  only  got  it  'cause  th'  Baby 
had  hair  like  Lily's  hair !  " 

Rose-Marie  crouched  down,  suddenly,  upon 
the  floor  beside  the  girl.  She  laid  her  hand 
upon  the  suit-case. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Ella?"  she  asked 


112  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

abruptly.  "  Where  are  you  going — and  when 
will  you  be  back  ?  " 

Ella's  lips  drew  up  into  the  semblance  of  a 
smile — a  very  bitter  one — as  she  answered. 

"  It's  none  of  yer  business  where  I'm  goin'," 
she  said,  "  an'  I  may  not  ever  come  back — 
see?" 

Rose-Marie  caught  her  breath  in  a  kind  of 
sob.  It  was  as  she  had  guessed — and  feared ! 

"  Ella,"  she  asked  slowly,  "  are  you  going 
alone?" 

The  girl's  face  coloured  swiftly,  with  a  glo- 
rious wave  of  crimson.  She  tossed  her  head 
with  a  defiant  movement. 

"  No,  I  ain't  goin'  alone ! "  she  told  Rose- 
Marie.  "You  kin  betcha  life  I  ain't  goin' 
alone!" 

Rose-Marie — sitting  beside  her  on  the  floor 
— asked  God,  silently,  for  help  before  she 
spoke  again.  She  felt  suddenly  powerless, 
futile. 

"Why  are  you  going,  dear?"  she  ques- 
tioned, at  last. 

Ella  dropped  the  shoes  that  she  had  been 
about  to  tuck  into  the  suit-case.  Her  eyes 
were  grim. 

"  Because,"  she  said,  "  I'm  tired  of  all  o' 
this."  Her  finger  pointed  in  the  direction  of 
the  outer  room.  "I'm  tired  o*  dirt,  and 


ELLA  MAKES  A  DECISION         113 

drunken  people,  and  Jim's  rotten  talk.  I'm 
tired  o'  meals  et  out  o'  greasy  dishes,  an'  cheap 
clothes,  and  jobs  that  I  hate — an'  that  I  can't 
nohow  seem  ter  hold !  I'm  tired,  dog-tired,  o' 
life.  All  that's  ever  held  me  in  this  place  is 
Lily.  An'  sometimes,  when  I  look  at  her,  I 
don't  think  that  she'd  know  the  difference 
whether  I  was  here  'r  not !  " 

Rose-Marie  was  half  sobbing  in  her  earnest- 
ness. 

"Ah,  but  she  would  know  the  difference," 
she  cried.  "  Lily  loves  you  with  all  of  her  heart. 
And  your  mother  is  really  trying  to  be  neater, 
to  make  a  better  home  for  you !  She  hasn't  a 
pleasant  time  of  it,  either — your  mother.  But 
she  doesn't  run  away.  She  stays !  " 

There  was  scorn  in  the  laugh  that  came,  all 
at  once,  from  Ella's  twisted  mouth.  Her  great 
eyes  were  somberly  sarcastic. 

"  Sure,  she  stays,"  said  Ella,  "  'cause  she 
ain't  got  enough  gumption  ter  be  gettin*  out! 
I  know." 

In  her  heart  Rose-Marie  was  inclined  to 
agree  with  Ella.  She  knew,  herself,  that  Mrs. 
Volsky  would  never  have  the  courage  to  make 
any  sort  of  a  definite  decision.  But  she 
couldn't  say  so — not  while  Ella  was  staring  at 
her  with  that  cynical  expression. 

"  I  guess,"  she  said  bravely,  "  that  we'd  bet- 


114  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

ter  leave  your  mother  out  of  this  discussion. 
After  all,  it's  between  you — and  your  con- 
science." 

"  Say,"  Ella's  face  was  suddenly  drawn  and 
ugly,  "  say,  where  do  you  get  off  to  pull  this 
conscience  stuff?  You've  always  had  a  nice 
home,  an'  pretty  clothes,  an'  clean  vittles,  an' — 
an'  love!  I  ain't  had  any  of  it.  But,"  her 
eyes  flamed,  "  I'm  goin'  to !  Don't  you  dast 
ter  pull  this  conscience  stuff  on  me — I've  heard 
you  profess'nal  slummers  talk  before — a  lot  o' 
times.  What  good  has  a  conscience  ever  done 
me— huh?" 

Rose-Marie  had  been  watching  the  girl's 
face.  Of  a  sudden  she  shot  her  thunderbolt. 

"Are  you  running  away  to  be  married, 
Ella?  "she  asked. 

A  second  flush  ran  over  Ella's  face,  and  re- 
ceded slowly — leaving  it  very  pale.  But  her 
head  went  up  rather  gallantly. 

"No,  I  ain't,"  she  retorted.  "Marriage," 
she  said  the  words  parrot-like,  "  was  made  fer 
th*  sort  o'  folks  who  can't  stick  at  nothin'  un- 
less they're  tied.  I  ain't  one  of  those 
folks!" 

Across  the  nearly  forgotten  suit-case,  Rose- 
Marie  leaned  toward  Ella  Volsky.  Her  eyes 
were  suddenly  hot  with  anger. 

"  Who  gave  you  that  sort  of  an  argument?" 


ELLA  MAKES  A  DECISION         115 

she  demanded.  "  Who  has  been  filling  your 
head  with  lies?  You  never  thought  of  that 
yourself,  Ella — I  know  you  never  thought  of 
that  yourself!" 

Ella's  eyes  met  Rose-Marie's  angry  glance. 
Her  words,  when  she  spoke,  came  rapidly — 
almost  tumbled  over  each  other.  It  was  as  if 
some  class-resentment,  long  repressed,  were 
breaking  its  bounds. 

"  How  d'  you  know,"  she  demanded  pas- 
sionately, "  that  I  didn't  think  of  that  myself? 
How  do  you  know?  You're  th'  only  one, 
I  s'pose,"  her  tone  was  suddenly  mocking, 
"  that  knows  how  t'  think !  No  " — as  Rose- 
Marie  started  to  interrupt — "  don't  try  t'  pull 
any  alibi  on  me!  I  know  th'  way  you  Set- 
tlement House  ladies  " — she  accented  the  word 
— "  feel  about  us.  You  have  clubs  for  us,  an' 
parties,  an'  uplift  meetin's.  You  pray  fer  us 
— an'  with  us.  You  tell  us  who  t'  marry,  an' 
how  t'  bring  up  our  children,  an'  what  butcher 
t'  buy  our  meat  off  of.  But  when  it  comes  t' 
understandin'  us — an'  likin'  us!  Well,  you're 
too  good,  that's  all."  She  paused,  staring  at 
Rose-Marie's  incredulous  face  with  insolent 
eyes. 

"  You're  like  all  th'  rest,"  she  went  on,  after 
a  moment,  "  just  like  all  th'  rest.  I  was  be- 
ginnin'  t'  think  that  you  was  diff' rent.  You've 


116  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

been  so  white  about  Bennie.  An'  you  washed 
Ma's  hair — I  wouldn't  'a'  done  that  myself! 
But  now — now  it  sticks  out  all  over  you;  th' 
I'm-better-'n-you-are  stuff.  I  never  could 
think  of  a  thing,  /  couldn't.  But  you — you're 
smart,  you  are.  You  could  think " 

Rose-Marie's  cheeks  were  flushed  with  a 
very  real  resentment,  as  she  interrupted  the 
girl's  flow  of  half -articulate  speech. 

"  Ella,"  she  said,  and  her  words,  too,  came 
rapidly,  "  you  know  that  you're  not  being  fair 
— you  know  it!  I've  never  held  apart  from 
you  in  any  way.  Oh,  I  realize  that  we've  been 
brought  up  in  different — surroundings.  And 
it's  made  us  different  from  each  other  in  the 
unimportant  things.  But  we're  both  girls, 
Ella — we're  both  young  and  we've  both  got  all 
of  life  before  us.  And  so,  perhaps,  we  can 
understand  each  other " — she  was  fumbling 
mentally  for  words,  in  an  effort  to  make  clear 
her  meaning — "  more  than  either  of  us  realize. 
I  wasn't,  for  one  moment,  trying  to  patronize 
you  when  I  said  what  I  did.  I  was  only  won- 
dering how  you  happened  to  say  something 
that  I  wouldn't  ever  dream  of  saying — that  no 
nice  girl,  who  had  a  real  understanding  of 
life" — she  wondered,  even  as  she  spoke  the 
words,  what  the  Young  Doctor  would  think  if 
he  could  hear  them  issuing  from  her  lips — 


ELLA  MAKES  A  DECISION         117 

"  would  dream  of  saying.  You're  a  nice  girl, 
Ella — or  you  wouldn't  be  in  the  same  family 
with  Bennie  and  Lily  And  you're  a  sensible 
girl,  so  you  must  realize  how  important  and 
sacred  marriage  is.  Who  told  you  that  it  was 
a  mistake,  Ella  ?  Who,"  her  childish  face  was 
very  grave,  indeed,  "  who  told  you  such  a  ter- 
rible thing?" 

Ella's  eyes  were  blazing — Rose-Marie  al- 
most thought  that  the  girl  was  going  to  strike 
her!  But  the  blazing  eyes  wavered,  after  a 
moment,  and  fell. 

"  My  gentleman  f ren*  says  marriage  is 
wrong,"  said  Ella.  "  He  knows  a  lot.  And 
he  has  so  much  money" — she  made  a  wide 
gesture  with  her  hands — "  I  can  have  a  nice 
place  ter  live,  Miss  Rose-Marie,  an*  pretty 
clothes.  Lookit  Ma;  she's  married  an'  she 
ain't  got  nothin'!  I  can  have  coats  an'  hats 
an' " 

Rose-Marie  touched  Ella's  hand,  timidly, 
with  her  cool  fingers. 

"  But  you'll  have  to  pay  for  them,  Ella,"  she 
said.  "  Think,  dear ;  will  the  coats  and  hats 
be  worth  the  price  that  you'll  have  to  pay? 
Will  they  be  worth  the  price  of  self-respect — 
will  they  be  worth  the  price  of  honourable 
wifehood  and — motherhood?  Will  the  pretty 
clothes,  Ella,  make  it  easier  for  you  to  look 


118  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

into  the  face  of  some  other  woman — who  has 
kept  straight  ?  Will  they  ?  " 

Ella  raised  her  eyes  and,  in  their  suddenly 
vague  expression,  Rose-Marie  saw  a  glimmer- 
ing of  the  faded,  crushed  mother.  She  hur- 
ried on. 

"  What  kind  of  a  chap  is  this  gentleman 
friend,"  she  raged,  "  to  ask  so  much  of  you, 
dear?  Is  there — is  there  any  reason  why  he 
can't  marry  you?  Is  he  tied  to  some  one 
else?" 

All  at  once  Ella  was  sobbing,  with  gusty,  de- 
fiant sobs. 

"  Not  as  far  as  I've  heard  of,  there  ain't  no- 
body else,"  she  sobbed.  "  I  don't  know  much 
about  him,  Miss  Rose-Marie.  Jim  gimme  a 
knockdown  ter  him,  one  night,  in  a  dance-hall. 
I  thought  he  was  all  right — Jim  said  he  was 
.  .  .  An'  he  said  he  loved  me,  an' " — 
wildly — "  I  love  him,  too !  An'  I  hate  it  all, 
here,  except  Lily " 

Rose-Marie,  thinking  rapidly,  seized  her  ad- 
vantage. 

"Will  going  away  with  him,"  she  asked 
steadily,  "be  worth  never  seeing  Lily  again? 
For  you  wouldn't  be  able  to  see  her  again — you 
wouldn't  feel  able  to  touch  her,  you  know,  if 
your  hands  weren't — clean.  You  bought  her 
a  religious  picture,  Ella,  and  a  flower.  Why? 


ELLA  MAKES  A  DECISION         119 

Because  you  know,  in  your  heart,  that  she's 
aware  of  religion  and  beauty  and  sweetness! 
Going  away  with  this  man,  Ella,  will  separate 
you  from  Lily,  just  as  completely  as  an  ocean 
— flowing  between  the  two  of  you — would 
make  a  separation !  And  all  of  your  life  you'll 
have  to  know  that  she's  suffering  somewhere, 
perhaps ;  that  maybe  somebody's  hurting  her — 
that  her  dresses  are  dirty  and  her  hair  isn't 
combed!  Every  time  you  hear  a  little  child 
crying  you'll  think  of  Lily — who  can't  cry 
aloud.  Every  time  a  pair  of  blue  eyes  look 
into  your  face  you'll  think  of  her  eyes — that 
can't  see.  Will  going  away  with  him  be  worth 
never  knowing,  Ella,  whether  she's  alive  or 
dead " 

Ella  had  stopped  sobbing,  but  the  acute  mis- 
ery of  her  face  was  somehow  more  pitiful  than 
tears.  Rose-Marie  waited,  for  a  moment,  and 
then — as  Ella  did  not  speak — she  got  up  from 
her  place  beside  the  suit-case,  and  going  to  the 
dividing  door,  opened  it  softly. 

The  room  was  as  she  had  left  it.  Mrs. 
Volsky  was  still  bending  above  the  tubs,  Lily 
was  standing  in  almost  the  same  place  in  which 
she  had  been  left.  With  hurried  steps  Rose- 
Marie  crossed  the  room,  and  took  the  child's 
slim,  little  hand  in  her  own. 

"  Come  with  me,  honey,"  she  said,  almost 


120  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

forgetting  that  Lily  could  not  hear  her  voice. 
"  Come  with  me,"  and  she  led  her  gently  back 
to  the  inner  room. 

Ella  was  sitting  on  the  floor,  her  face  still 
wan,  her  attitude  unconsciously  tragic.  But 
as  the  child,  clinging  to  Rose-Marie's  hand, 
came  over  to  her  side,  she  was  suddenly  gal- 
vanized into  action. 

"  Oh,  darlin',  darlin',"  she  sobbed  wildly, 
"Ella  was  a-goin'  ter  leave  you!  Ella  was 
a-goin'  away.  But  she  isn't  now — not  now! 
Darlin',"  her  arms  were  flung  wildly  about  the 
little  figure,  "  show,  some  way,  that  you  for- 
give Ella — who  loves  you !  " 

Rose-Marie  was  crying,  quite  frankly.  All 
at  once  she  dropped  down  on  the  floor  and  put 
her  arms  about  the  two  sisters — the  big  one 
and  the  little  one — and  her  sobs  mingled  with 
Ella's.  But,  curiously  enough,  as  she  stood 
like  a  little  statue  between  them,  a  sudden  smile 
swept  across  the  face  of  Lily.  She  might,  al- 
most, have  understood. 


xrv 

PA  STEPS  ASIDE 

THEY  vrept  together  for  a  long  time, 
Ella  and  Rose-Marie.  And  as  they 
cried  something  grew  out  of  their 
common  emotion.  It  was  a  something  that  they 
both  felt  subconsciously — a  something  warm 
and  friendly.  It  might  have  been  a  new  bond 
of  affection,  a  new  chain  of  love.  Rose-Marie, 
as  she  felt  it,  was  able  to  say  to  herself — with 
more  of  tolerance  than  she  had  ever  known — 

"  If  I  had  been  as  tempted  and  as  unhappy 
as  she — well,  I  might,  perhaps,  have  reacted  in 
the  same  way !  " 

And  Ella,  sobbing  in  the  arms  of  the  girl 
that  she  had  never  quite  understood,  was  able 
to  tell  herself :  "  She's  right— dead  right !  The 
straight  road's  the  only  road.  .  .  ." 

It  was  little  Lily  who  created  a  diversion. 
She  had  been  standing,  very  quietly,  in  the 
shelter  of  their  arms  for  some  time — she  had  a 
way  of  standing  with  an  infinite  patience,  for 
hours,  in  one  place.  But  suddenly,  as  if  drawn 
by  some  instinct,  she  dropped  down  on  the 

121 


122  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

floor,  beside  the  cheap  suit-case,  and  her  small 
hands,  shaking  with  eagerness,  started  to  take 
out  the  clothes  that  had  been  flung  into  it. 

It  was  uncanny,  almost,  to  see  the  child  so 
happily  beginning  to  unpack  the  suit-case. 
The  sight  dried  Rose-Marie's  tears  in  an  al- 
most miraculous  way. 

"  Let's  put  away  the  things,"  she  suggested 
shakily,  to  Ella.  "  For  you  won't  be  going 
now,  will  you  ?  " 

The  face  that  Ella  Volsky  lifted  was  a 
changed  face.  Her  expression  was  a  shade 
more  wistful,  perhaps,  but  the  somber  glow 
had  gone  out  of  her  eyes,  leaving  them  softer 
than  Rose-Marie  had  supposed  possible. 

"  No,  Miss,"  she  said  quietly,  "  I  won't  be 
going — away.  You're  right,  it  ain't  worth  the 
price !  "  And  the  incident,  from  that  moment, 
was  closed. 

They  unpacked  the  garments — there  weren't 
many  of  them — quietly.  But  Rose-Marie  was 
very  glad,  deep  in  her  soul,  and  she  somehow 
felt  that  Ella's  mind  was  relieved  of  a  tre- 
mendous strain.  They  didn't  speak  again,  but 
there  was  something  in  the  way  Ella's  hand 
touched  her  little  sister's  sunny  hair  that  was 
more  revealing  than  words.  And  there  was 
something  in  the  way  Rose-Marie's  mouth 
curved  blithely  up  that  told  a  whole  story  of 


PA  STEPS  ASIDE  123 

satisfaction  and  content.  It  seemed  as  if 
peace,  with  her  white  wings  folded  and  at  rest, 
was  hovering,  at  last,  above  the  Volsky  flat. 

And  then,  all  at  once,  the  momentary  lull 
was  over.  All  at  once  the  calm  was  shattered 
as  a  china  cup,  falling  from  a  careless  hand,  is 
broken.  There  was  a  sudden  burst  of  noise  in 
the  front  room;  of  rough  words;  of  a  woman 
sobbing.  There  was  the  sound  of  Mrs. 
Volsky' s  voice,  raised  in  an  unwonted  cry  of 
anguish,  there  was  a  trickle  of  water  slithering 
down  upon  an  uncarpeted  floor — as  if  the 
wash-tub  had  been  overturned. 

It  was  the  final  event  of  an  unsettling  day — 
the  last  straw.  Forgetting  Lily,  forgetting  the 
unpacking,  Rose-Marie  jumped  to  her  feet,  ran 
to  the  door.  Ella  followed.  They  stood  to- 
gether on  the  threshold  of  the  outer  room,  and 
stared. 

The  room  seemed  full  of  people — shouting, 
gesticulating  people.  And  in  the  foreground 
was  Jim — as  sleek  and  well  groomed  as  ever. 
Of  all  the  crowd  he  seemed  the  only  one  who 
was  composed.  In  front  of  him  stood  Mrs. 
Volsky — her  face  drawn  and  white,  her  hands 
clasped  in  a  way  that  was  singularly  and  primi- 
tively appealing. 

At  first  Rose-Marie  thought  that  the  com- 
motion had  to  do  with  Jim.  She  was  always 


124  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

half  expecting  to  hear  that  he  had  been  appre- 
hended in  some  sort  of  mischief,  that  he  had 
been  accused  of  some  crime.  But  she  dis- 
missed the  idea  quickly — his  composure  was 
too  real  to  be  born  of  bravado.  It  was  while 
her  brain  groped  for  some  new  solution  that 
she  became  conscious  of  Mrs.  Volsky's  voice. 

"  Oh,  he  ain't,"  the  woman  was  moaning, 
"  say  he  ain't !  My  man — he  could  not  be  so ! 
There  ain't  no  truth  in  it — there  can't  be  no 
truth  .  .  .  Say  as  he  ain't  been  done  to 
so  bad!  Say  it!" 

Ella,  with  a  movement  that  was  all  at  once 
love-filled,  stepped  quickly  to  her  mother's  side. 
As  she  faced  the  crowd — and  Jim — her  face 
was  also  drawn;  drawn  and  apprehensive. 

"What's  up?"  she  queried  tersely  of  her 
brother.  "What's  up?" 

The  face  of  Jim  was  calm  and  almost  smil- 
ing as  he  answered.  Behind  him  the  shrill 
voices  of  the  crowd  sounded,  like  a  background, 
to  the  blunt  words  that  he  spoke. 

"  Pa  was  comin'  home  drunk,"  he  told  Ella, 
"  an*  he  was  ran  inter  by  a  truck.  He  was 
smashed  up  pretty  bad;  dead  right  away,  th' 
cop  said.  But  they  took  him  ter  a  hospital 
jus'  th'  same.  Wonder  why  they'd  take  a  stiff 
ter  a  hospital?" 

Mrs.  Volsky's  usually  colourless  voice  was 


PA  STEPS  ASIDE  125 

breaking  into  loud,  almost  weird  lamentation. 
Ella  stood  speechless.  But  Rose-Marie,  the 
horror  of  it  all  striking  to  her  very  soul, 
spoke. 

"  It  can't  be  true,"  she  cried,  starting  for- 
ward and — in  the  excitement  of  the  moment — 
laying  her  hand  upon  Jim's  perfectly  tailored 
coat  sleeve.  "  It  can't  be  true  .  .  .  It's 
too  terrible ! " 

Jim's  laugh  rang  out  heartlessly,  eerily,  upon 
the  air. 

"  It  ain't  so  terrible ! "  he  told  Rose-Marie. 
"  Pa — he  wasn't  no  good !  He  wasn't  a  reg'- 
lar  feller — like  me."  All  at  once  his  well- 
manicured  white  hand  crept  down  over  her 
hand.  "He  wasn't  a  recflar  feller"  he  re- 
peated, "  like  me!. " 


XV 
A  SOLUTION 

AS  Rose-Marie  left  the  Volsky  flat- 
Ella  had  begged  her  to  go;  had  as- 
sured her  that  it  would  be  better  to 
leave  Mrs.  Volsky  to  her  inarticulate  grief — 
her  brain  was  in  a  whirl.  Things  had  hap- 
pened, in  the  last  few  hours,  with  a  kaleido- 
scopic rapidity — the  whirl  of  events  had  left 
her  mind  in  a  dazed  condition.  She  told  her- 
self, over  and  over,  that  Ella  was  saved.  But 
she  found  it  hard  to  believe  that  Ella  would 
ever  find  happiness,  despite  her  salvation,  in 
the  grim  tenement  that  was  her  home.  She 
told  herself  that  Bennie  was  learning  to  travel 
the  right  road — that  the  Scout  Club  would  be 
the  means  of  leading  him  to  other  clubs  and 
that  the  other  clubs  would,  in  time,  introduce 
him  to  Sunday-school  and  to  the  church.  She 
told  herself  that  Mrs.  Volsky  was  willing  to 
try;  very  willing  to  try!  But  of  what  avail 
would  be  Bennie's  growing  faith  and  idealism 
if  he  had  to  come,  night  after  night,  to  the 
home  that  was  responsible  for  men  like  Jim— ^ 
and  like  Pa? 

126 


A  SOLUTION  127 

Pa !  Rose-Marie  realized  with  a  new  sense 
of  shock  that  Pa  was  no  longer  a  force  to 
reckon  with.  Pa  was  dead — had  been  crushed 
by  a  truck.  Never  again  would  he  slouch 
drunkenly  into  the  flat,  never  again  would  he 
throw  soiled  clothing  and  broken  bottles  and 
heavy  shoes  into  newly  tidied  corners.  He 
was  dead  and  he  had — after  all — been  the  one 
link  that  tied  the  Volskys  to  their  dingy  quar- 
ters! With  Pa  gone  the  family  could  seek 
cleaner,  sweeter  rooms — rooms  that  would 
have  been  barred  to  the  family  of  a  drunkard ! 
With  Pa  gone  the  air  would  clear,  magically, 
of  some  of  its  heaviness. 

Rose-Marie,  telling  herself  how  much  the 
death  of  Pa  was  going  to  benefit  the  Volsky 
family,  felt  all  at  once  heartless.  She  had 
been  brought  up  in  an  atmosphere  where  death 
carries  sorrow  with  it — deep  sorrow  and  sanc- 
tity. She  remembered  the  dim  parlours  of  the 
little  town  when  there  was  a  funeral — she  re- 
membered the  singing  of  the  village  choir  and 
the  voice  of  the  pastor,  slightly  unsteady,  per- 
haps, but  very  confident  of  the  life  hereafter. 
She  remembered  the  flowers,  and  the  mourners 
in  their  black  gowns,  and  the  pure  tears  of 
grief.  She  had  always  seen  folk  meet  death 
so — meet  it  rather  beautifully. 

But  the  passing  of  Pa!     She  shuddered  to 


128  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

think  of  its  cold  cruelty — it  was  rather  like  his 
life.  He  had  been  snuffed  out — that  was  all — 
snuffed  out !  There  would  be  for  him  no  dim 
parlour,  no  singing  choir,  no  pastor  with  an 
unsteady  voice.  The  black-robed  mourners 
would  be  absent,  and  so  would  the  flowers. 
His  going  would  cause  not  a  ripple  in  the  life 
of  the  community — it  would  bring  with  it  bet- 
ter opportunities  for  his  family,  rather  than  a 
burden  of  sorrow ! 

"  I  can't  grieve  for  him !  "  Rose-Marie  told 
herself  desperately.  "  I  can't  grieve  for  him ! 
It's  the  only  chance  he  ever  gave  to  his  chil- 
dren— dying!  Perhaps,  without  him,  they'll 
be  able  to  make  good.  .  .  ." 

She  was  crossing  the  park — splashed  with 
sunshine,  it  was.  And  suddenly  she  remem- 
bered the  first  time  that  she  had  met  Bennie  in 
the  park.  It  seemed  centuries  away,  that  first 
meeting!  She  remembered  how  she  had  been 
afraid,  then,  of  the  crowds.  Now  she  walked 
through  them  with  a  certain  assurance — she 
belonged.  She  had  come  a  long  distance  since 
that  first  meeting  with  Bennie — a  very  long 
distance !  She  told  herself  that  she  had  proved 
her  ability  to  cope  with  circumstance — had 
proved  her  worth,  almost.  Why,  now,  should 
the  Superintendent  keep  her  always  in  the 
shadow  of  the  Settlement  House — why  should 


A  SOLUTION  129 

the  Young  Doctor  laugh  at  her  desire  to  help 
people?  She  had  something  to  show  them — 
she  could  flaunt  Bennie  before  their  eyes,  she 
could  quote  the  case  of  Ella;  she  could  produce 
Mrs.  Volsky,  broken  of  spirit  but  ready  to  do 
anything  that  she  could.  And — last  but  not 
least — she  would  show  Lily  to  them,  Lily  who 
had  been  hidden  away  from  the  eyes  of  the 
ones  who  could  help  her — Lily  who  so  desper- 
ately needed  help! 

All  at  once  Rose-Marie  was  weary  of  deceit. 
She  would  be  glad— ever  so  glad — to  tell  her 
story  to  the  Superintendent !  She  was  tired  of 
going  out  furtively  of  an  afternoon  to  help 
these  folk  that  she  had  come  to  help.  She 
wanted  to  go  in  an  open  way — with  the  stamp 
of  approval  upon  her.  The  Superintendent  had 
said,  once,  that  she  would  hardly  be  convincing 
to  the  people  of  the  slums.  With  the  Volsky 
family  to  show,  she  could  prove  that  she  had 
been  convincing,  very  convincing! 

With  a  singing  heart  she  approached  the 
Settlement  House.  With  a  smile  on  her  lips 
she  went  up  the  brownstone  steps,  pushed  wide 
the  door — which  was  never  locked.  And  then 
she  hurried,  as  fast  as  her  feet  could  hurry,  to 
the  Superintendent's  tiny  office. 

The  Superintendent  was  in.  She  answered 
Rose-Marie's  knock  with  a  cheery  word,  but, 


130  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

when  the  girl  entered  the  room,  she  saw  that 
the  Superintendent's  kind  eyes  were  troubled. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  she  questioned,  for- 
getting, for  a  moment,  the  business  of  which 
she  had  been  so  full.  "What's  the  matter? 
You  look  ever  so  worried !  " 

The  Superintendent's  tired  face  broke  into 
a  smile. 

"Was  I  looking  as  woe-begone  as  that?" 
she  queried.  "  I  didn't  realize  that  I  was. 
Nothing  serious  is  the  matter,  dear — nothing 
very  serious!  Only  Katie's  sister  in  the  old 
country  is  ill — and  Katie  is  going  home  to  stay 
with  her.  And  it's  just  about  impossible  to 
get  a  good  maid,  nowadays — it  seems  as  if 
Katie  has  been  with  me  for  a  lifetime.  I  ex- 
pect that  we'll  manage,  somehow,  but  I  don't 
just  fancy  cooking  and  sweeping,  and  running 
the  Settlement  House,  too!  " 

All  at  once  an  idea  leaped,  full-blown,  into 
the  brain  of  Rose-Marie.  She  leaned  forward 
and  laid  her  hand  upon  the  Superintendent's 
arm. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  asked  excitedly,  "  if  you'd 
consider  a  woman  with  a  family  to  take  Katie's 
place?  The  family  isn't  large — just  a  small 
boy  who  goes  to  school,  and  a  small  girl,  and 
an  older  girl  who  is  working.  There's  a 
grown  son,  but  he  can  take  care  of  him- 


A  SOLUTION  131 

self  .  .  ."  the  last  she  said  almost  under 
her  breath.  "  He  can  take  care  of  himself.  It 
would  be  better,  for  them " 

The  Superintendent  was  eyeing  Rose-Marie 
curiously. 

"  We  have  plenty  of  sleeping-rooms  on  the 
top  floor,"  she  said  slowly,  "  and  I  suppose  that 
the  older  girl  could  help  a  bit,  evenings.  Why, 
yes,  perhaps  a  family  might  solve  the  problem 
— it's  easier  to  keep  a  woman  with  children 
than  one  who  is,"  she  laughed,  "  heart-whole 
and  fancy  free !  Who  are  they,  dear,  and  how 
do  you  happen  to  know  of  them  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  sat  down,  suddenly,  in  a  chair 
beside  the  Superintendent's  desk.  All  at  once 
her  knees  were  shaky — all  at  once  she  felt 
strangely  apprehensive. 

"  Once,"  she  began,  and  her  voice  quivered 
slightly,  "  I  met  a  little  boy,  in  the  park.  He 
was  hurting  a  kitten.  I  started  to  scold  him 
and  then  something  made  me  question  him, 
instead.  And  I  found  out  that  he  was  hurt- 
ing the  kitten  because  he  didn't  know  any  bet- 
ter— think  of  it,  because  he  didn't  know  any 
better!  And  so  I  was  interested,  ever  so  in- 
terested. And  I  decided  it  was  my  duty  to 
know  something  of  him — to  find  out  what 
sort  of  an  environment  was  responsible  for 
him." 


132  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

The  Superintendent's  tired  face  was  alight. 
She  leaned  forward  to  ask  a  question. 

"  How  long  ago,"  she  questioned,  "  did  you 
meet  this  child,  in  the  park  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  flushed.  The  time,  suddenly, 
seemed  very  long  to  her. 

"  It  was  the  day  that  I  came  home  bringing 
a  little  gray  cat  with  me,"  she  said.  "  It  was 
the  day  that  I  quarreled  with  Dr.  Blanchard  at 
the  luncheon  table.  Do  you  remember  ?  " 

The  Superintendent  smiled  reminiscently. 
"Ah,  yes,  I  remember !  "  she  said.  And  then — 
"  Go  on  with  the  story,  dear." 

Rose-Marie  went  on. 

"  I  found  the  place  where  he  lived,"  she 
said  hurriedly.  "  Yes  —  I  know  that  you 
wouldn't  have  let  me  go  if  you'd  known  about 
it !  That's  why  I  didn't  tell  you.  I  found  the 
place  where  he  lived ;  an  unspeakable  tenement 
on  an  unspeakable  street.  And  I  met,  there, 
his  family — a  most  remarkable  family !  There 
was  a  mother,  and  an  older  sister,  and  an  older 
brother,  and  a  drunken  father,  and  a  little 
crippled  girl  .  .  ." 

And  then,  shaking  inwardly,  Rose-Marie 
told  the  story  of  the  Volskys.  She  told  it 
well ;  better  than  she  realized.  For  the  Super- 
intendent's eyes  never  left  her  face  and — at 
certain  parts  of  the  story — the  Superintend- 


A  SOLUTION  133 

ent's  cheeks  grew  girlishly  pink.  She  told  of 
the  saving  of  Ella — she  told  of  Bennie,  ex- 
plaining that  he  was  the  same  child  whom  the 
Young  Doctor  had  met  in  the  hall.  She  told 
of  Mrs.  Volsky's  effort  to  better  herself,  and  of 
Jim's  snake-like  smoothness.  And  then  she 
told  of  Lily — Lily  with  her  almost  unearthly 
beauty  and  her  piteous  physical  condition.  As 
she  told  of  Lily  the  Superintendent's  kind  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  and  her  lips  quivered. 

"  Oh,"  she  breathed,  "  if  only  something 
could  be  done  for  her  —  if  only  something 
could  be  done!  Billy  Blanchard  must  see  her 
at  once — he's  done  marvellous  things  with  the 
crippled  children  of  the  neighbourhood !  " 

With  a  feeling  of  sudden  confidence  Rose- 
Marie  smiled.  She  realized  that  she  had 
caught  the  Superintendent's  interest — and  her 
sympathy.  It  would  be  easier,  now,  to  give 
the  family  their  chance !  Her  voice  was  more 
calm  as  she  went  on  with  the  narrative.  It 
was  only  when  she  told  of  the  death  of  Pa  that 
her  lips  trembled. 

"  You'll  think  that  I'm  hard  and  callous," 
she  said,  "  taking  his  death  so  easily.  But  I 
can't  help  feeling  that  it's  for  the  best.  They 
could  never  have  broken  away — not  with  him 
alive.  You  would  never  have  taken  them  in — 
if  he  had  had  to  be  included!  You  couldn't 


134  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

have  done  it.  ...  But  now,"  her  voice 
was  aquiver  with  eagerness,  "  now,  say  that 
they  may  come!  Say  that  Mrs.  Volsky  may 
take  Katie's  place.  Oh,  I  know  that  she  isn't 
very  neat;  that  she  doesn't  cook  as  we  would 
want  her  to.  But  she  can  learn  and,  free  from 
the  influence  of  her  husband  and  son,  I'm  sure 
she'll  change  amazingly.  Say  that  you'll  give 
the  family  a  chance !  " 

The  Superintendent  was  wavering.  "  I'm 
not  so  sure,"  she  began,  and  hesitated.  "  I'm 
not  so  sure " 

Rose-Marie  interrupted.  Her  voice  was 
very  soft. 

"  It  will  mean/'  she  said,  "  that  Lily  will  be 
here,  under  the  doctor's  care.  It  will  mean 
that  she  will  get  well — perhaps !  For  her  sake 
give  them  a  chance  .  .  ." 

The  Superintendent's  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
space.  When  she  spoke,  she  spoke  irrele- 
vantly. 

"Then,"  she  said,  "that  was  where  you 
went  every  afternoon — to  the  tenement.  You 
weren't  out  with  some  man,  after  all?  " 

Rose-Marie  hung  her  head.  "  I  went  to  the 
tenement  every  afternoon,"  she  admitted,  "  to 
the  tenement.  Oh,  I  know  that  you're  angry 
with  me — I  know  it.  And  I  don't  in  the  least 
blame  you.  I've  been  deceitful,  I've  sneaked 


A  SOLUTION  135 

away  when  your  back  was  turned,  I've  prac- 
tically told  lies  to  you!  Don't  think/'  her 
voice  was  all  a-tremble,  "don't  think  that  I 
haven't  been  sorry.  I've  been  tremendously 
sorry  ever  so  many  times.  I've  tried  to  tell 
you,  too — often.  And  I've  tried  to  make  you 
think  my  way.  Do  you  remember  the  talk  we 
had,  that  night  when  we  were  both  so  tired,  in 
your  sitting-room  —  before  Dr.  Blanchard 
came  ?  I  was  trying  to  scrape  up  the  courage 
to  tell  you,  then,  but  you  so  disagreed  with  me 
that  I  didn't  dare !  " 

The  Superintendent  seemed  scarcely  to  be 
listening.  There  seemed  to  be  something  upon 
her  mind. 

"  Rose-Marie,"  she  said  with  a  mock  stern- 
ness, "  you're  evading  my  questions.  Answer 
me,  child !  Isn't  there  any  one  that  you — care 
for  ?  Weren't  you  out  with  some  man  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  was  blushing  furiously. 

"  No,"  she  admitted,  "  I  wasn't  out  with  a 
man.  I  never  had  any  sort  of  a  sweetheart, 
not  ever!  I  just  let  you  all  think  that  I  was 
with  some  one  because — if  I  hadn't  let  you 
think  that  way — you  might  have  made  me  stay 
in.  I  wouldn't  have  made  a  point  of  deliber- 
ately telling  you  a  falsehood — but  Dr.  Blanch- 
ard gave  me  the  idea  and  " — defiantly — "  I 
just  let  him  think  what  he  wanted  to  think ! " 


136  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

The  Superintendent  was  laughing. 

"  What  he  wanted  to  think !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Oh,  Rose-Marie — you've  a  lot  to  answer  for ! 
What  he  wanted  to  think  .  .  ."  Suddenly 
the  laugh  died  out  of  her  voice,  all  at  once  she 
was  very  serious.  "  Perhaps,"  she  said  slowly, 
"  your  idea  about  the  Volsky  family  is  a  good 
one.  We'll  try  it  out,  dear!  There  was  a 
MAN,  once,  Who  said:  *  Suffer  the  little  chil- 
dren to  come '  Why,  Rose-Marie,  what's 

the  matter  ?  "  For  Rose-Marie,  her  face  hid- 
den in  the  crook  of  her  elbow,  was  crying  like 
a  very  tired  child. 


XVI 
ENTER— JIM 

IT  was  with  a  light  heart  that  Rose-Marie 
started  back  to  the  tenement.  The  tears 
had  cleared  her  soul  of  the  months  of 
evasion  that  had  so  worried  her — she  felt  sud- 
denly free  and  young  and  happy.  It  was  as  if 
a  rainbow  had  come  up,  tenderly,  out  of  a 
storm-tossed  sky ;  it  was  as  if  a  star  was  shin-N 
ing,  all  at  once,  through  the  blackness  of  mid- 
night. She  felt  a  glad  assurance  of  the  fu- 
ture— a  faith  in  the  Hand  of  God,  stretched 
out  to  His  children.  "  Everything,"  she  sing- 
songed, joyously,  to  herself,  "  will  come  right, 
now.  Everything  will  come  right !  " 

It  was  strange  how  she  suddenly  loved  all  of 
the  people,  the  almost  mongrel  races  of  people, 
who  thronged  the  streets !  She  smiled  brightly 
at  a  mother,  pushing  a  baby-buggy — she  thrust 
a  coin  into  the  withered  hand  of  an  old  beggar. 
On  a  crowded  corner  she  paused  to  listen  to 
the  vague  carollings  of  a  barrel  organ,  to  pat 
the  head  of  a  frayed  looking  little  monkey  that 
hopped  about  in  time  to  the  music.  All  at 


138  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

once  she  wanted  to  know  a  dozen  foreign 
languages  so  that  she  could  tell  those  who 
passed  her  by  that  she  was  their  friend — their 
friend! 

And  yet,  despite  her  sudden  feeling  of  kin- 
ship to  these  people  of  the  slums,  she  did  not 
loiter.  For  she  was  the  bearer  of  a  message, 
a  message  of  hope !  She  wished,  as  she  sped 
through  the  crowded  streets,  that  her  feet  were 
winged  so  that  she  might  hurry  the  faster! 
She  wanted  to  see  the  expression  of  bewilder- 
ment on  Mrs.  Volsky's  face,  she  wanted  to  see 
a  light  dawn  in  Ella's  great  eyes,  she  wanted 
to  whisper  a  message  of — of  life,  almost — into 
Lily's  tiny  useless  ear.  And,  most  of  all,  she 
wanted  to  feel  Bennie's  warm,  grubby  little 
fingers  touching  her  hand!  Jim — she  hoped 
that  Jim  would  be  out  when  she  arrived.  She 
did  not  want  to  have  Jim  throw  cold  water 
upon  her  plans — which  did  not  include  him. 
Well  she  knew  that  the  arrangement  would 
make  no  real  difference  to  him — it  was  not  love 
of  family  that  kept  him  from  leaving  the  dirty, 
crowded  little  flat.  It  was  the  protection  of 
a  family,  with  its  pseudo-respectability,  that  he 
wanted.  It  was  the  locked  room,  which  no 
one  would  think  of  prying  into,  that  he  de- 
sired. 

She  went  in  through  the  mouth-like  tene- 


ENTEK— JIM  139 

ment  door — it  was  no  longer  frightful  to  her — 
with  a  feeling  of  intense  emotion.  She  climbed 
the  narrow  stairs,  all  five  flights  of  them,  with 
never  a  pause  for  breath.  And  then  she  was 
standing,  once  again,  in  front  of  the  Volskys' 
door.  She  knocked,  softly. 

Everything  was  apparently  very  still  in  the 
Volsky  flat.  All  up  and  down  the  hall  came 
the  usual  sounds  of  the  house ;  the  stairs  echoed 
with  noise.  But  behind  the  closed  door  silence 
reigned  supreme.  As  Rose-Marie  stood  there 
she  felt  a  strange  mental  chill — the  chill  of  her 
first  doubt.  Perhaps  the  Volskys  would  not 
want  to  come  with  her  to  the  Settlement 
House,  perhaps  they  would  resent  her  atti- 
tude— would  call  it  interference.  Perhaps 
they  would  tell  her  that  they  were  tired  of 

her — and  of  her  plans.  Perhaps But 

the  door,  swinging  open,  cut  short  her  supposi- 
tions. 

Jim  stood  in  the  doorway.  He  was  in  his 
shirt  sleeves  but — even  divested  of  his  coat — he 
was  still  too  painfully  immaculate — too  well 
groomed.  Rose-Marie,  looking  at  him,  felt  a 
sudden  primitive  desire  to  see  him  dirty  and 
mussed  up.  She  wished,  and  the  wish  sur- 
prised her,  that  she  might  sometime  see  him 
with  his  hair  rumpled,  his  collar  torn,  his  eye 
blackened  and — she  could  hardly  suppress  a 


140  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

hysterical  desire  to  laugh  as  the  thought  struck 
her — his  nose  bleeding.  Somehow  his  smooth, 
hard  neatness  was  more  offensive  to  her  than 
his  mother's  dirty  apron — than  his  small  broth- 
er's frankly  grimy  hands.  She  spoke  to  him 
in  a  cool  little  voice  that  belied  her  inward 
disturbance. 

"  Where,"  she  questioned,  "  are  your  mother 
and  Ella?  I  want  to  see  them." 

With  a  movement  that  was  not  ungraceful 
Jim  flung  wide  the  door.  Indeed,  Rose-Marie 
told  herself,  as  she  stepped  into  the  Volsky 
flat,  Jim  was  never  ungraceful.  There  was 
something  lithe  and  cat-like  in  his  slightest 
movement,  just  as  there  was  something  feline 
in  the  expression  of  his  eyes.  Rose-Marie 
often  felt  like  a  small,  helpless  mouse  when 
Jim  was  staring  at  her. 

"Where  are  your  mother  and  Ella?"  she 
questioned  again  as  she  stepped  into  the  room. 
"  I  do  want  to  see  them !  " 

Jim  was  dragging  forward  a  chair.  He 
answered. 

"  Then  yer'd  better  sit  down  'n'  make  your- 
self at  home,"  he  told  her,  "  fer  they've  gone 
out.  They're  down  t'  th'  hospital,  now,  takin' 
a  last  slant  at  Pa.  Ma's  cryin'  to  beat  th' 
band — you'd  think  that  she  really  liked  him! 
An1  Ella's  cryin',  too — she's  fergot  how  he 


ENTER— JIM  141 

uster  whip  her  wit'  a  strap  when  she  was  a 
kid!  An'  they've  took  Bennie;  Bennie  ain't 
cryin'  but  he's  a-holdin'  to  Ma's  hand  like 
a  baby.  Oh,"  he  laughed  sneeringly,  "  it's 
one  grand  little  family  group  that  they 
make ! " 

Rose-Marie  sat  down  gingerly  upon  the  edge 
of  the  chair.  She  did  not  relish  the  prospect 
of  spending  any  time  alone  with  Jim,  but  a 
certain  feeling  of  pride  kept  her  from  leaving 
the  place.  She  would  not  let  Jim  know  that 
she  feared  him — it  would  flatter  him  to  think 
that  he  had  so  much  influence  over  her.  She 
would  stay,  even  though  the  staying  made  her 
uneasy!  But  she  hoped,  from  the  bottom  of 
her  heart,  that  the  rest  of  the  family  would 
not  be  long  at  the  hospital. 

"When  did  they  go  out?"  she  questioned, 
trying  to  make  her  tone  casual.  "  Do  you  ex- 
pect them  back  soon  ?  " 

Jim  sat  down  in  a  chair  that  was  near  her 
own.  He  leaned  forward  as  he  answered. 

"  They  haven't  been  gone  so  awful  long,"  he 
told  her.  "An* — say — what's  th'  difference 
when  they  gets  back  ?  I  never  have  no  chance 
to  talk  wit'  you — not  ever!  An',"  he  sighed 
with  mock  tragedy,  "  an'  I  have  so  much  t' 
say  t'  yer !  You  never  have  a  word  f er  me — 
think  o'  that!  An'  think  o'  all  th'  time  yen 


142  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

waste  on  Bennie — an'  him  too  young  t'  know 
a  pretty  girl  when  he  sees  one !  " 

Rose-Marie  flushed  and  hated  herself  for 
doing  it.  "  We'll  leave  personalities  out  of 
this !  "  she  said  primly. 

Jim  was  laughing,  but  there  was  a  sinister 
note  in  his  mirth. 

"Not  much  we  won't!"  he  told  her.  "I 
like  you — see?  You're  th'  best  lookin'  girl  in 
this  neck  o'  woods — even  if  you  do  live  at  the 
Settlement  House!  If  you'd  learn  to  dress 
more  snappy — t'  care  more  about  hats  than 
yer  do  about  Bible  Classes — you'd  make  a  big 
hit  when  yer  walked  out  on  Delancy  Street. 
There  ain't  a  feller  livin'  as  wouldn't  turn  t' 
look  at  yer — not  one!  Say,  kid,"  he  leaned 
still  closer,  "  I'm  strong  fer  yer  when  yer 
cheeks  get  all  pink-like.  I'm  strong  fer  yer 
any  time  a-tall !  " 

Rose-Marie  was  more  genuinely  shocked 
than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life.  The  flush 
receded  slowly  from  her  face. 

"You'd  like  me  to  be  more  interested  in 
clothes  than  in  Bible  Classes !  "  she  said  slowly. 
"  You'd  like  me  to  go  parading  down  Delancy 
Street  .  .  ."  she  paused,  and  then — "  You're 
a  fine  sort  of  a  man,"  she  said  bitterly — "  a  fine 
sort  of  a  man !  Oh,  I  know.  I  know  the  sort 
of  people  you  introduce  to  Ella — and  she's  your 


ENTEB— JIM  143 

sister.  I've  seen  the  way  you  look  at  Lily, 
and  she's  your  sister,  too!  You  wouldn't 
think  of  making  things  easier  for  your  mother; 
and  you'd  give  Bennie  a  push  down — instead 
of  a  boost  up!  And  you  scoff  at  your  father — 
lying  dead  in  his  coffin !  You're  a  fine  sort  of 
a  man.  ...  I  don't  believe  that  you've  a 
shred  of  human  affection  in  your  whole 
make-up ! " 

Jim  had  risen  slowly  to  his  feet.  There 
was  no  anger  in  his  face — only  a  huge  amuse- 
ment. Rose-Marie,  watching  his  expression, 
knew  all  at  once  that  nothing  she  said  would 
have  the  slightest  effect  upon  him.  His  sensi- 
bilities were  too  well  concealed,  beneath 
a  tough  veneer  of  conceit,  to  be  wounded. 
His  soul  seemed  too  well  hidden  to  be 
reached. 

"  So  that's  what  you  think,  is  it  ?  "  he  asked, 
and  his  voice  was  almost  silky,  it  was  so 
smooth,  "  so  that's  what  you  think !  I  haven't 
any  '  human  affection  in  my  make-up/  "  he  was 
imitating  her  angry  voice,  "  I  haven't  any 
*  human  affection ' !  "  he  laughed  suddenly,  and 
bent  with  a  swift  movement  until  his  face  was 
on  a  level  with  her  face.  "  Lot  yer  know 
about  it !  "  he  told  her  and  his  voice  thickened, 
all  at  once,  "  lot  yer  know  about  it !  I'm  crazy 
about  you,  little  kid — just  crazy !  Yer  th'  only 


144  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

girl  as  I've  ever  wanted  t'  tie  up  to,  get  that? 
How'd  yer  like  t'  marry  me  ?  " 

For  one  sickening  moment  Rose-Marie 
thought  that  she  had  misunderstood.  And 
then  she  saw  his  face  and  knew  that  he  had 
been  deadly  serious.  Her  hands  fluttered  up 
until  they  rested,  like  frightened  birds,  above 
her  heart. 


XVII 

AN  ANSWER 

THERE  was  eagerness — and  a  hint  of 
something  else — in  Jim's  voice  as  he 
repeated  his  question. 

"Well,"  he  asked  for  the  second  time, 
"  what  d'  yer  say  about  it — huh  ?  How'd  yer 
like  ter  marry  me  ?  " 

Rose-Marie's  fascinated  eyes  were  on  his 
face.  At  the  first  she  had  hardly  believed  her 
ears — but  her  ears  had  evidently  been  func- 
tioning properly.  Jim  wanted  to  marry  her — 
to  marry  her!  It  was  a  possibility  that  she 
had  never  dreamed  of — a  thought  that  she  had 
never,  for  one  moment,  entertained.  Jim  had 
always  seemed  so  utterly  of  another  world — 
of  another  epoch,  almost.  He  spoke  a  lan- 
guage that  was  far  removed  from  her  lan- 
guage, his  mind  worked  differently — even  his 
emotions  were  different  from  her  emotions. 
He  might  have  been  living  upon  another  planet 
— so  distant  he  had  always  seemed  from  her. 
And  yet  he  had  asked  her  to  marry  him! 

Like  every  other  normal  girl,  Rose-Marie 


146  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

had  thought  ahead  to  the  time  when  she  would 
have  a  home  and  a  husband.  She  had  dreamed 
of  the  day  when  her  knight  would  come  riding 
— a  visionary,  idealized  figure,  always,  but  a 
noble  one!  She  had  pictured  a  hearth-fire, 
and  a  blue  and  white  kitchen  with  aluminum 
pans  and  glass  baking  dishes.  She  had  even 
wondered  how  tiny  fingers  would  feel  as  they 
curled  about  her  hand — if  a  wee  head  would 
be  heavy  upon  her  breast. 

Of  late  her  dreams,  for  some  reason,  had 
become  a  little  less  misty — a  little  more  defi- 
nite. The  figure  of  her  knight  had  been  a 
trifle  more  clear  cut — the  armour  of  her  im- 
agination had  given  place  to  rough  tweed  suits 
and  soft  felt  hats.  And  the  children  had 
looked  at  her,  from  out  of  the  shadows,  with 
wide,  dark  eyes — almost  like  real  children. 
Her  thoughts  had  shaped  themselves  about  a 
figure  that  was  not  the  romantic  creation  of 
girlhood — that  was  strong  and  willing  and 
very  tender.  Dr.  Blanchard — had  he  not  been 
mistaken  upon  so  many  subjects — would  have 
fitted  nicely  into  the  picture! 

But  Jim — of  all  people,  Jim!  He  was  as  far 
removed  from  the  boundaries  of  her  dream  as 
the  North  Pole  is  removed  from  the  South. 
His  patent  leather  hair — she  could  not  picture 
it  against  her  arm — his  mouth,  thin-lipped  and 


AN  ANSWEB  147 

too  red.  .  .  .  She  shuddered  involunta- 
rily, as  she  thought  of  it  and  the  man,  bending 
above  her,  saw  the  shudder. 

"  Well,"  he  questioned  for  the  third  time, 
"  what  about  it  ?  I'm  a  reg'lar  guy,  ain't  I  ? 
How'd  you  like  to  marry  me  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  moistened  her  lips  before  she 
answered.  Her  voice,  when  it  came,  was  very 
husky. 

"Why,  Jim,"  she  said  faintly,  "what  an 
idea !  How  did  you  ever  come  to  think  of  it  ?  " 

The  man's  face  was  flushed.  His  words 
tumbled,  quickly,  from  his  unsteady  mouth. 

"  I'm  crazy  about  yer,  kid,"  he  said,  "  crazy 
about  yer!  Don't  think  that  bein'  married  t* 
me  will  mean  as  you'll  have  ter  live  in  a  dump 
like  this-there" — the  sweep  of  his  arm  was 
expressive — "  f er  yer  won't !  You'll  have  th' 
grandest  flat  in  this  city — anywhere  yer  say'll 
suit  me!  Yer'll  have  hats  an'  dresses,  an'  a 
car — if  yer  want  it.  Yer'll  have  everything — 
if  yer'll  marry  me !  What  d'  yer  say?  " 

Rose-Marie's  face  was  a  study  of  mixed 
emotions — consternation  struggling  with  in- 
credulity for  first  place.  The  man  saw  the  un- 
belief;  for  he  hurried  on  before  she  could 
speak. 

"  Yer  think  that  I'm  like  my  pa  was  " — he 
told  her — "  livin'  on  measly  wages !  Well,  I 


148  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

ain't.  Some  nights  I  make  a  pile  that  runs 
inter  thousands — an'  it'll  be  all  fer  yer!  All 
f er  yer !  " 

Of  a  sudden,  Rose-Marie  spoke.  She  was 
scarcely  tactful. 

"  How  do  you  make  all  of  this  money, 
Jim  ?  "  she  questioned ;  "  do  you  come  by  it 
honestly  ?  " 

A  dark  wave  of  colour  spread  over  the  man's 
face — dyeing  it  to  an  ugly  crimson. 

"  What's  it  matter  how  I  get  it,"  he  snarled, 
"  long's  I  get  it!  What  business  is  it  of  yers 
how  I  come  by  my  coin?  I  ain't  stagin'  a 
investergation.  And  " — his  face  softened  sud- 
denly, "  an'  yer  wouldn't  understand,  anyhow ! 
Yer  only  a  girl— a  little  kid!  What's  it  mat- 
ter how  I  gets  th*  roll — long  as  I'm  willin'  ter 
spend  it  on  m*  sweetie  ?  What's  it  matter  ?  " 
He  made  a  movement  as  if  to  take  her  into  his 
arms — "  Whatfs  it  matter? "  he  questioned 
again. 

Like  a  flash  Rose-Marie  was  upon  her  feet. 
With  a  swing  of  her  body  she  had  evaded  his 
arms.  Her  face  was  white  and  drawn,  but  her 
mind  was  exceptionally  active — more  active 
than  it  had  ever  been  in  all  of  her  life.  She 
knew  that  Jim  was  in  a  difficult  mood — that  a 
word,  one  way  or  the  other,  would  make  him 
as  easy  to  manage  as  a  kitten  or  as  relentless 


AN  ANSWER  149 

as  a  panther,  stalking  his  prey.  She  knew 
that  it  was  in  her  power  to  say  the  word  that 
would  calm  him  until  the  return  of  his  mother 
and  his  sister.  And  yet  she  found  it  well-nigh 
impossible  to  say  that  word. 

"I'm  tired  of  deceit,"  she  told  herself,  as 
she  stepped  back  in  the  direction  of  the  door. 
"  I'll  not  say  anything  to  him  that  isn't  true ! 
.  .  .  Nothing  can  happen  to  me,  anyway," 
she  assured  herself.  "This  is  the  twentieth 
century,  and  I'm  Rose-Marie  Thompson.  This 
is  a  civilized  country — nothing  can  hurt  me! 
I'm  not  afraid — not  while  God  is  taking  care 
of  me!" 

Jim  had  straightened  up.  He  seemed,  sud- 
denly, to  tower. 

"Well,"  he  growled,  "how  about  it? 
When'll  we  be  married  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  raised  her  head  gallantly. 

"  We  won't  ever  be  married,  Jim  Volsky !  " 
she  told  him,  and  even  to  her  own  surprise 
there  was  not  the  suggestion  of  a  quaver  in 
her  voice.  "  We  won't  ever  be  married.  I'm 
surprised  at  you  for  suggesting  it !  " 

The  man  stared  at  her,  a  moment,  and  his 
eyes  showed  clearly  that  he  did  not  quite  un- 
derstand. 

"  Yer  mean,"  he  stammered  at  last,  "  that 
yer  t'rowing  me  down?  " 


150  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

Rose-Marie's  head  was  still  gallantly 
lifted. 

"  I  mean,"  she  said,  "  that  I  won't  marry 
you!  Please — we'll  let  the  matter  drop,  at 
once ! " 

The  man  came  a  step  nearer.  The  bewil- 
derment was  dying  from  his  face. 

"  Not  much,  we  won't  let  the  matter  drop !  " 
he  snarled.  "What's  yer  reason  fer  turnin' 
me  down — huh  ?  " 

It  was  then  that  Rose-Marie  made  her  mis- 
take. It  was  then  that  she  ceased  to  be  tactful. 
But  suddenly  she  was  tired,  desperately  tired, 
of  Jim's  persistence.  Suddenly  she  was  too 
tired  even  to  be  afraid.  The  lift  of  her  chin 
was  very  proud — proud  with  some  ingrained 
pride  of  race,  as  she  answered.  Behind  her 
stood  a  long  line  of  ancestors  with  gentle 
blood,  ancestors  who  had  known  the  meaning 
of  chivalry. 

Coolly  she  surveyed  him.  Dispassionately 
she  noticed  the  lack  of  breeding  in  his  face,  the 
marks  of  early  dissipation,  the  lines  that  sin 
had  etched.  And  as  she  looked  she  laughed 
with  just  the  suggestion  of  hauteur.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life  Rose-Marie  was  experi- 
encing a  touch  of  snobbishness,  of  class  distinc- 
tion. 

"  We  won't  discuss  my  reason,"  she  told 


AN  ANSWEK  151 

him  slowly ;  "  it  should  be  quite  evident  to  any 
one! " 

Not  many  weeks  before,  Rose-Marie  had 
told  the  Young  Doctor — in  the  presence  of  the 
Superintendent — that  she  loved  the  people  of 
the  slums.  She  had  been  so  sure  of  herself 
then — so  certain  that  she  spoke  the  truth. 
More  recently  she  had  assured  the  Superin- 
tendent that  she  could  cope  with  any  situation. 
And  that  very  afternoon  she  had  told  Ella 
that  they  were  alike,  were  just  young  girls — 
both  of  them — with  all  of  life  in  front  of  them, 
with  the  same  hopes  and  the  same  fears  and 
the  same  ambitions. 

She  had  believed  the  statement  that  she  had 
made,  so  emphatically,  to  the  Young  Doctor — 
she  had  believed  it  very  strongly.  She  had 
been  utterly  sure  of  herself  when  she  begged 
the  Superintendent  to  let  her  know  more  of 
life.  And,  during  her  talk  with  Ella,  she  had 
felt  a  real  kinship  to  the  whole  of  the  Volsky 
family!  But  now  that  she  had  come  face  to 
face  with  a  crisis — now  that  she  was  meeting 
her  big  test — she  knew  that  her  strong  beliefs 
were  weakening  and  that  she  was  no  longer 
at  all  sure  of  herself !  And  as  for  being  kin  to 
the  Volskys — the  idea  was  quite  unthink- 
able. 

Always,  Rose-Marie  had  imagined  that  a 


152  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

proposal  of  marriage  would  be  the  greatest 
compliment  that  a  man  could  pay  a  girl.  But 
the  proposal  of  the  man  in  front  of  her  did  not 
seem  in  the  least  complimentary.  She  realized 
— with  the  only  feeling  of  irony  she  had  ever 
known,  that  this  proposal  was  her  very  first. 
And  she  was  looking  upon  it  as  an  insult. 
With  a  tiny  curl  of  her  lips  she  raised  her  eyes 
until  they  met  Jim's  eyes. 

"  It  should  be  quite  evident,"  she  repeated, 
"  to  any  one !  " 

Jim  Volsky's  face  had  turned  to  a  dark 
mottled  red.  His  slim,  well  manicured  hands 
were  clenched  at  his  sides. 

"  Y'  mean,"  he  questioned,  and  his  voice  had 
an  ugly  ring,  "  y'  mean  I  ain't  good  enough 
fer  yer?" 

All  at  once  the  snobbishness  had  slipped, 
like  a  worn  coat,  from  the  shoulders  of  the 
girl.  She  was  Rose-Marie  Thompson  again — 
a  Settlement  worker.  She  was  no  better,  de- 
spite the  ancestors  with  gentle  blood,  than  the 
man  in  front  of  her — just  more  fortunate. 
She  realized  that  she  had  been  not  only  un- 
kind, but  foolish.  She  tried,  hurriedly — and 
with  a  great  scare  looking  out  of  her  wide  eyes 
— to  repair  the  mistake  that  she  had  made. 

"  I  don't  mean  that  I  am  better  than  you, 
Jim,"  she  said  softly,  "  not  in  the  matter  of 


AN  ANSWER  153 

family.  We  are  all  the  children  of  God — we 
are  all  brothers  and  sisters  in  His  sight." 

Jim  Volsky  interrupted.  He  came  nearer  to 
Rose-Marie — so  near  that  only  a  few  inches 
of  floor  space  lay  between  them. 

"Don't  yer  go  sayin'  over  Sunday-school 
lessons  at  me,"  he  snarled.  "  I  know  what  yer 
meant.  Yer  think  I  ain't  good  enough — t' 
marry  yer.  Well " — he  laughed  shortly, 
"well,  maybe  I  ain't  good  enough — t'  marry 
yer!  But  I  guess  I'm  good  enough  t'  kiss 

yer "  All  at  once  his  hands  shot  out, 

closed  with  the  strength  of  a  vise  upon  her 
arms,  just  above  her  elbows.  "  I  guess  I'm 
good  enough  t'  kiss  yer ! "  he  repeated  gloat- 
ingly. 

Rose-Marie  felt  cold  fear  creeping  through 
her  veins.  There  was  something  clammy  in 
Jim's  touch,  something  more  than  menacing 
in  his  eyes.  She  knew  that  her  strength  was 
nothing  to  be  pitted  against  his — she  knew  that 
in  any  sort  of  a  struggle  she  would  be  easily 
subdued.  And  yet  she  knew  that  she  would 
rather  die  than  feel  his  lips  upon  hers.  She 
felt  an  intense  loathing  for  him — the  loathing 
that  some  women  feel  for  toads  and  lizards. 

"  Jim,"  she  said  slowly  and  distinctly,  "  let 
go  of  me  this  instant! " 

The  man  was  bending  closer.    A  thick  lock 


154  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

of  his  heavy  hair  had  shaken  down  over  his 
forehead,  giving  him  a  strangely  piratical  look. 

"  Not  much  I  won't,"  he  told  her.  "  So  I 
ain't  good  enough " 

All  at  once  Rose-Marie  felt  the  blindness  of 
rage — unreasoning,  deadly  anger.  Only  two 
things  she  knew — that  she  hated  Jim  and  that 
she  would  not  let  him  kiss  her.  She  spoke 
sudden  defiant  words  that  surprised  even  her- 
self. 

"  No,"  she  told  him,  and  her  voice  was 
hysterically  high,  "no,  you're  not  good  enough ! 
You're  not  good  enough  for  any  decent  girl! 
•You're  bad — too  bad  to  lay  your  fingers  upon 
me.  You're — you're  unclean!  Let  go  of  me 
or  I'll" — her  courage  was  oozing  rapidly 
away,  "  or  I'll  scream! " 

Jim  Volsky's  too  red  lips  were  on  a  level  with 
her  own.  His  voice  came  thickly.  "  Scream, 
if  you  want  to,  little  kid !  "  he  said.  "  Scream 
t'  beat  th'  band!  There  ain't  no  one  t'  hear 
yer.  Ma  an'  Ella  an'  Bennie  are  at  the  hos- 
pital— givin'  Pa  th'  once  over.  An'  th'  folks  in 
this  house  are  used  t'  yellin'.  They'd  oughter 
be!  Scream  if  yer  want  to— but  I'm  a-goin' 
ter  have  my  kiss !  " 

Rose-Marie  could  feel  the  warmth  of  his 
breath  upon  her  face.  Knowing  the  futility 
— the  uselessness  of  it — she  began  to  struggle. 


AN  ANSWER  155 

Desperately  she  tried  to  twist  her  arms  from 
the  slim,  brutal  hands  that  held  them — but  the 
hands  did  not  loosen  their  hold.  She  told  her- 
self, as  she  struggled,  that  Jim  had  spoken  the 
truth — that  a  scream,  more  or  less,  was  an 
every-day  occurrence  in  the  tenement. 

All  at  once  she  realized,  with  a  dazed,  sink- 
ing feeling,  that  the  Young  Doctor  had  had 
some  foundation  of  truth  in  certain  of  his 
statements.  Some  of  the  slum  people  were 
like  animals — very  like  animals!  Jim  was  all 
animal  as  he  bent  above  her — easily  holding 
her  with  his  hands.  Nothing  that  she  said 
could  reach  him — nothing.  She  realized  why 
the  Young  Doctor  had  wanted  her  to  leave  the 
Settlement  House  before  any  of  her  dreams 
had  been  shattered,  before  her  faith  in  man- 
kind had  been  abused!  She  realized  why,  at 
times,  he  had  hurt  her,  and  with  the  realization 
came  the  knowledge  that  she  wanted  him,  des- 
perately, at  that  minute — that  he,  out  of  all 
the  people  in  the  world,  was  the  one  that  her 
heart  was  calling  to  in  her  time  of  need.  She 
wanted  his  strength,  his  protection. 

Once  before,  earlier  in  the  afternoon,  she 
had  realized  that  there  was  much  of  the  cat 
in  Jim.  Now  she  realized  it  again,  with  a  new 
sense  of  fear  and  dislike.  For  Jim  was  not 
claiming  the  kiss  that  he  wanted,  in  a  straight- 


156  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

forward  way — he  was  holding  her  gloatingly, 
as  a  cat  tortures  a  mouse.  He  was  letting  her 
know,  without  words,  that  she  was  utterly 
helpless — that  he  could  kiss  her  when  he 
wanted  to,  and  not  until  he  wanted  to.  There 
was  something  horribly  playful  in  his  attitude. 
She  struggled  again — but  more  weakly,  her 
strength  was  going.  If  there  were  only  some- 
body to  help — somebody! 

And  then,  all  at  once,  she  remembered — with 
a  blinding  sense  of  relief — what  she  had  been 
forgetting.  She  remembered  that  there  was 
Somebody — a  Somebody  Who  is  always  ready 
to  help — a  Somebody  who  watches  over  the 
fate  of  every  little  sparrow. 

"If  you  hurt  me,"  she  said  desperately,  to 
Jim,  "  God  will  know !  Let  go  of  me — or 
I'll " 

Jim  interrupted. 

"  Yer'll  scream ! "  he  chuckled,  and  there 
was  cruel  mirth  in  the  chuckle.  "Yer'll 
scream,  an'  God  will  take  care  o'  yer !  Well — 
scream !  I  don't  believe  as  God  can  help  yer. 
God  ain't  never  been  in  this  tenement — as  far 
as  I  know !  " 

Despite  her  weight  of  fear  and  loathing, 
Rose-Marie  was  suddenly  sorry  for  Jim. 
There  was  something  pitiful — something  of 
which  he  did  not  realize  the  pathos — in  his 


AN  ANSWER  157 

speech.  God  had  never  been  in  the  tenement 
— God  had  never  been  in  the  tenement!  All  at 
once  she  realized  that  Jim's  wickedness,  that 
Jim's  point  of  view,  was  not  wholly  his  fault. 
Jim  had  not  been  brought  up,  as  she  had,  in 
the  clean  out-of-doors ;  he — like  many  another 
slum  child — had  grown  to  manhood  without 
his  proper  heritage  of  fresh  air  and  sunshine. 
One  could  not  entirely  blame  him  for  thinking 
of  his  home — the  only  home  that  he  had  ever 
known — as  a  Godless  place.  She  stopped 
struggling  and  her  voice  was  suddenly  calm 
and  sweet  as  she  answered  Jim's  state- 
ment. 

"God,"  she  said  slowly,  "is  in  this  tene- 
ment. God  is  everywhere,  Jim — everywhere! 
If  I  call  on  Him,  He  will  help  me !  " 

All  at  once  Jim  had  swung  her  away  from 
him,  until  he  was  holding  her  at  arm's  length. 
He  looked  at  her,  from  between  narrowed  lids, 
and  there  was  bitter  sarcasm  in  his  eyes. 

"  Call  on  Him,  then/'  he  taunted,  "  call  on 
Him!  Lotta  good  it'll  do  yer!"  The  very 
tone  of  his  voice  was  a  sacrilege,  as  he  said  it. 

Rose-Marie's  eyes  were  blurred  with  tears  as 
she  spoke  her  answer  to  his  challenge.  She 
was  remembering  the  prayers  that  she  had  said 
back  home — in  the  little  town.  She  was  re- 
membering how  her  aunts  had  taught  her,  when 


158  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

she  was  a  wee  girl,  to  talk  with  God — to  call 
upon  Him  in  times  of  deep  perplexity.  She 
had  called  upon  Him,  often,  but  she  had  never 
really  needed  Him  as  she  did  now.  "  Help 
me,  God !  "  she  said  softly,  "  Help  me,  God!  " 

The  Volsky  flat  was  still,  for  a  moment. 
And  then,  with  surprising  quickness,  the  door 
to  the  inner  room  swung  open.  Jim,  who  was 
standing  with  his  back  to  the  door,  did  not 
see  the  tiny,  golden-haired  figure  that  stood  in 
the  opening,  but  Rose-Marie  caught  her 
breath  in  a  kind  of  a  sob. 

"  I  had  forgotten  Lily "  she  murmured, 

almost  to  herself. 

Jim,  hearing  her  words,  glanced  quickly  back 
over  his  shoulder.  And  then  he  laughed,  and 
there  was  an  added  brutality  in  the  tone  of  his 
laughter. 

"Oh— Lily!"  he  laughed.  "Lily!  She 
won't  help  yer — not  much !  I  was  sort  of  ex- 
pectin*  this  God  that  yer  talk  about "  The 

laughter  died  out  of  his  face  and  he  jerked  her 
suddenly  close — so  close  that  she  lay  trem- 
bling in  his  arms.  "  Lily  can't  hear,"  he  ex- 
ulted, "'r  see,  'r  speak.  I'll  take  my  kiss — 
now!  " 

It  was  then  that  Rose-Marie,  forgetting  her- 
self in  the  panic  of  the  moment,  screamed. 
She  screamed  lustily,  twisting  her  face  away 


AN  ANSWEB  159 

from  his  lips.  And  as  she  screamed  Lily,  as  si- 
lently as  a  little  wraith,  started  across  the  room. 
She  might  almost  have  heard,  so  straight  she 
came.  She  might  almost  have  known  what 
was  happening,  so  directly  she  ran  to  the  spot 
where  Rose-Marie  was  struggling  in  the  arms 
of  Jim.  All  at  once  her  thin  little  hands  had 
fastened  themselves  upon  the  man's  trouser 
leg,  all  at  once  she  was  pulling  at  him,  with 
every  bit  of  her  feeble  strength. 

Rose-Marie,  still  struggling,  felt  an  added 
weight  of  apprehension.  Not  only  her  own 
safety  was  at  stake — Lily,  who  was  so  weak, 
was  in  danger  of  being  hurt.  She  jerked  back, 
with  another  cry. 

"  Oh,  God  help  me!  "  she  cried,  "  God  help 
us!" 

Silently,  but  with  a  curious  persistence,  the 
child  clung  to  the  man's  trouser  leg.  With  an 
oath  he  looked  back  again  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Leave  go  of  me,"  he  mouthed.  "  Leave 
go  o'  me— y'  little  brat !  'r  I'll " 

And  "  Let  go  of  him,  Lily,"  sobbed  Rose- 
Marie,  forgetting  that  the  child  could  not  hear. 
"  Let  go  of  him,  or  he'll  hurt  you !  " 

The  child  lifted  her  sightless  blue  eyes  wist- 
fully to  the  faces  above  her — the  faces  that  she 
could  not  see.  And  she  clung  the  closer. 

Jim  was  swearing,  steadily — swearing  with 


160  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

a  dogged,  horrible  regularity.  Of  a  sudden  he 
raised  his  heavy  foot  and  kicked  viciously  at 
the  child  who  clung  so  tenaciously  to  his  other 
leg.  Rose-Marie,  powerless  to  help,  closed  her 
eyes — and  opened  them  again  almost  spasmod- 
ically. 

"You  brute,"  she  screamed,  "you  utter 
brute!" 

Lily,  who  had  never,  in  all  of  her  broken  lit- 
tle life,  felt  an  unkind  touch,  wavered,  as  the 
man's  boot  touched  her  slight  body.  Her 
sightless  eyes  clouded,  all  at  once,  with  tears. 
And  then,  with  a  sudden  piercing  shriek,  she 
crumpled  up — in  a  white  little  heap — upon  the 
floor. 


XVIII 
AND  A  MIRACLE 

FOR  a  moment  Rose-Marie  was  stunned 
by  the  child's  unexpected  cry.  She 
hung  speechless,  filled  with  wonder- 
ment, in  Jim's  arms.  And  then,  with  a 
wrench,  she  was  free — was  running  across  the 
floor  to  the  little  huddled  bundle  that  was  Lily. 

"  You  beast,"  she  flung  back,  over  her  shoul- 
der, as  she  ran.  "  You  beast !  You've  killed 
her!" 

Jim  did  not  attempt  to  follow — or  to  an- 
swer. He  had  wheeled  about,  and  his  face 
was  very  pale. 

"  God ! "  he  said,  in  a  tense  whisper, 
"  God! "  It  was  the  first  time  that  the  word, 
upon  his  lips,  was  neither  mocking  nor  pro- 
fane. 

Rose-Marie,  with  tender  hands,  gathered  the 
child  up  from  the  hard  floor.  She  was  not 
thinking  of  the  miracle  that  had  taken  place — 
she  was  not  thinking  of  the  sound  that  had 
come,  so  unexpectedly,  from  dumb  lips.  She 
161 


162  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

only  knew  that  the  child  was  unconscious,  per- 
haps dying.  Her  trembling  ringers  felt  of  the 
slim  wrist;  felt  almost  with  apprehension. 
She  was  surprised  to  feel  that  the  pulse  was 
still  beating,  though  faintly. 

"  Get  somebody,"  she  said,  tersely,  to  Jim. 
"  Get  somebody  who  knows — something !  " 

Jim's  face  was  still  the  colour  of  ashes.  He 
did  not  stir — did  not  seem  to  have  the  power  to 
stir. 

"Did  yer  hear  her?"  he  mouthed  thickly. 
"  She  yetted.  I  heard  her.  Did  yer  hear " 

Rose-Marie  was  holding  Lily  close  to  her 
breast.  Her  stern  young  eyes  looked  across 
the  drooping  golden  head  into  the  scared  face 
of  the  man. 

"  It  was  God,  speaking  through  her,"  she 
said.  "  It  was  God.  And  you — you  had  de- 
nied Him — you  beast!" 

All  at  once  Jim  was  down  upon  the  floor 
beside  her.  The  mask  of  passion  had  slipped 
from  his  face — his  shoulders  seemed  suddenly 
more  narrow — his  cruel  hands  almost  futile. 
Rose-Marie  wondered,  subconsciously,  how  she 
had  ever  feared  him. 

"  She  yelled,"  he  reiterated,  "  did  yer  hear 
her " 

Rose-Marie  clutched  the  child  tighter  in  her 
arms. 


AND  A  MIRACLE  163 

"  Get  some  one,  at  once,"  she  ordered,  "  if 
you  don't  want  her  to  die — if  you  don't  want 
to  be  a  murderer !  " 

But  Jim  had  not  heard  her  voice.  He  was 
sobbing,  gustily. 

"  I'm  t' rough,"  he  was  sobbing,  "  t' rough ! 
Oh— God,  fergive " 

It  was  then  that  the  door  opened.  And 
Rose-Marie,  raising  eyes  abrim  with  relief,  saw 
that  Ella  and  Mrs.  Volsky  and  Bennie  stood 
upon  the  threshold. 

"What's  a-matter?"  questioned  Mrs.  Vol- 
sky— her  voice  sodden  with  grief.  "  What's 
been  a-happenin'  ?  "  But  Ella  ran  across  the 
space  between  them,  and  knelt  in  front  of 
Rose-Marie. 

"  Give  'er  t'  me ! "  she  breathed  fiercely ; 
"  she's  my  sister.  Give  'er  t'  me !  " 

Silently  Rose-Marie  handed  over  the  light 
little  figure.  But  as  Ella  pillowed  the  dis- 
hevelled head  upon  her  shoulder,  she  spoke  di- 
rectly to  Bennie. 

"  Run  to  the  Settlement  House,  as  fast  as 
ever  you  can ! "  she  told  him.  "  And  bring 
Dr.  Blanchard  back  with  you.  Hurry,  dear — 
it  may  mean  Lily's  life !  "  And  Bennie,  with 
his  grimy  face  tear-streaked,  was  out  of  the 
door  and  clattering  down  the  stairs  before  she 
had  finished. 


164  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

Ella,  her  mouth  agonized  and  drawn,  was 
the  first  to  speak  after  Bennie  left  the  room. 
When  she  did  speak  she  asked  a  question. 

"  Who  done  this  t'  her  ?  "  she  questioned. 
"  Who  done  it?  " 

Rose-Marie  hesitated.  She  could  feel  the 
eyes  of  Mrs.  Volsky,  dumb  with  suffering, 
upon  her — she  could  feel  Jim's  rat-like  gaze 
fixed,  with  a  certain  appeal,  on  her  face.  At 
last  she  spoke. 

"Jim  will  tell  you !  "  she  said. 

If  she  had  expected  the  man  to  evade  the 
issue — if  she  had  expected  a  downright  false- 
hood from  him — she  was  surprised.  For 
Jim's  head  came  up,  suddenly,  and  his  eyes 
met  the  burning  dark  ones  of  his  sister. 

"  I  done  it,"  he  said,  simply,  and  he  scram- 
bled up  from  the  floor,  as  he  spoke.  "  I  kicked 
her.  She  come  in  when  I  was  tryin'  t'  kiss  " — 
his  finger  indicated  Rose-Marie,  "her.  Lily 
got  in  th'  way.  So  I  kicked  out  hard — then — 
she,"  he  gulped  back  a  shudder,  "  she  yelled! " 

Ella  was  suddenly  galvanized  into  action. 
She  was  on  her  feet,  with  one  lithe,  panther- 
like  movement — the  child  held  tight  in  her 
arms. 

"  Yer  kicked  her,"  she  said  softly— and  the 
gentleness  of  her  voice  was  ominous.  "  Yer 
kicked  her!  An'  she  yelled "  For  the 


AND  A  MIEACLB  166 

first  time  the  full  significance  of  it  struck  her. 
"She  yelled?"  she  questioned,  whirling  to 
Rose-Marie ;  "  yer  don't  mean  as  she  made  a 
sound?" 

Rose-Marie  nodded  dumbly.  It  was  Jim's 
voice  that  went  on  with  the  story. 

"She  ain't  dead,"  he  told  Ella,  piteously. 
"  She  ain't  dead.  An' — I  promise  yer  true — 
I'll  never  do  such  a  thing  again.  I  promise  yer 
true!" 

Ella  took  a  step  toward  him.  Her  face  was 
suddenly  lined,  and  old.  "If  she  dies/'  she 
told  him,  "  if  she  dies  .  .  ."  she  hesitated, 
and  then — "  Much  yer  promises  mean,"  she 
shrilled,  "  much  yer  promises " 

Rose-Marie  had  been  watching  Jim's  face. 
Almost  without  meaning  to  she  interrupted 
Ella's  flow  of  speech. 

"  I  think  that  he  means  what  he  says,"  she 
told  Ella  slowly.  "I  think  that  he  means 
.  .  .  what  he  says." 

For  she  had  seen  the  birth  of  something — 
that  might  have  been  soul — in  Jim's  haggard 
eyes. 

The  child  in  Ella's  arms  stirred,  weakly,  and 
was  still  again.  But  the  movement,  slight  as 
it  was,  made  the  girl  forget  her  brother.  Her 
dark  head  bent  above  the  fair  one. 

"  Honey,"  she  whispered,  "  yer  goin'  ter  get 


166  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

well  fer  Ella — ain't  yer?  Yer  goin'  ter  get 
well " 

The  door  swung  open  with  a  startling  sud- 
denness, and  Rose-Marie  sprang  forward,  her 
hands  outstretched.  Framed  in  the  battered 
wood  stood  Bennie — the  tears  streaking  his 
face — and  behind  him  was  the  Young  Doctor. 
So  tall  he  seemed,  so  capable,  so  strong,  stand- 
ing there,  that  Rose-Marie  felt  as  if  her 
troubles  had  been  lifted,  magically,  from  her 
shoulders.  All  at  once  she  ceased  to  be  afraid 
— ceased  to  question  the  ways  of  the  Al- 
mighty. All  at  once  she  felt  that  Lily  would 
get  better — that  the  Volskys  would  be  saved 
to  a  better  life.  And  all  at  once  she  knew 
something  else.  And  the  consciousness  of  it 
looked  from  her  wide  eyes. 

"  You !  "  she  breathed.     "  You! " 

And,  though  she  had  sent  for  him,  herself, 
she  felt  a  glad  sort  of  surprise  surging  through 
her  heart. 

The  Young  Doctor's  glance,  in  her  direc- 
tion, was  eloquent.  But  as  his  eyes  saw  the 
child  in  Ella's  arms  his  expression  became  im- 
personal, again,  concentrated,  and  alert.  With 
one  stride  he  reached  Ella's  side,  and  took  the 
tiny  figure  from  her  arms. 

"  What's  the  matter  here  ?  "  he  questioned 
sharply. 


AND  A  MIEACLE  167 

Rose-Marie  was  not  conscious  of  the  words 
that  she  used  as  she  described  Lily's  accident. 
She  glossed  over  Jim's  part  in  it  as  lightly  as 
possible;  she  told,  as  quickly  as  she  could,  the 
history  of  the  child.  And  as  she  told  it,  the 
doctor's  lean  capable  hands  were  passing,  with 
practiced  skill,  over  the  little  relaxed  body. 
When  she  told  of  the  child's  deaf  and  dumb 
condition  she  was  conscious  of  his  absolute  at- 
tention— though  he  did  not  for  a  moment  stop 
his  work — when  she  spoke  of  the  scream  she 
saw  his  start  of  surprise.  But  his  only  words 
were  in  the  nature  of  commands.  "  Bring 
water  " — he  ordered,  "  clean  water,  in  a  basin. 
A  clean  basin.  Bring  a  sponge  " — he  corrected 
himself — "  a  clean  rag  will  do — only  it  must 
be  clean  " — this  to  Mrs.  Volsky,  "  you  under- 
stand? Where,"  his  eyes  were  on  Ella's  face, 
"  can  we  lay  the  child  ?  Is  there  a  clean  bed, 
anywhere  ?  " 

Ella  was  shaking  with  nervousness  as  she 
opened  the  door  of  the  inner  room  that  she 
and  Lily  shared.  Mrs.  Volsky,  carrying  the 
basin  of  water,  was  sobbing.  Jim,  standing  in 
the  center  of  the  room,  was  like  a  statue — only 
his  haunted  eyes  were  alive.  The  Young  Doc- 
tor, glancing  from  face  to  face,  spoke  sud- 
denly to  Rose-Marie. 

"  I  hate  to  ask  you,"  he  said  simply,  "  but 


168  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

you  seem  to  be  the  only  one  who  hasn't  gone 
to  pieces.  Will  you  come  in  here  with  me  ?  " 

Rose-Marie  nodded,  and  she  spoke,  very 
softly.  "  Then  you  think  that  I'll  be  able— to 
help  ?  "  she  questioned. 

The  Young  Doctor  was  remembering — or 
forgetting — many  things. 

"  I  know  that  you  will ! "  he  said,  and  he 
spoke  as  softly  as  she  had  done.  "  I  know: 
that  you  will!" 

They  went,  together,  with  Lily,  into  the  in- 
ner room.  And  as  the  Young  Doctor  closed 
the  door,  Rose-Marie  knew  a  very  real  throb 
of  triumph.  For  he  had  admitted  that  her  help 
was  to  be  desired — that  she  could  really  do 
something ! 

But,  the  moment  that  the  door  closed,  she 
forgot  her  feeling  of  victory,  for,  of  a  sudden, 
she  saw  Dr.  Blanchard  in  a  new  light.  She  saw 
him  lay  the  little  figure  upon  the  bed — she  saw 
him  pull  off  his  coat.  And  then,  while  she  held 
the  basin  of  water,  she  saw  him  get  to  work. 
And  as  she  watched  him  her  last  feeling  of 
doubt  was  swept  away. 

"  He  may  say  that  he's  not  interested  in  peo- 
ple," she  told  herself  joyously,  "but  he  is. 
He  may  think  that  he  doesn't  care  for  religion 
— but  he  does.  There's  love  of  people  in  every 
move  of  his  hands!  There's  something  re- 


AND  A  MIEACLE  169 

ligious  in  the  very  way  his  fingers  touch 
Lily!" 

Yes,  she  was  seeing  the  Young  Doctor  in  a 
new  light.  As  she  watched  him  she  knew  that 
he  had  quite  forgotten  her  presence — had  quite 
forgotten  the  little  quarrels  that  had  all  but 
ruined  their  chance  at  friendship.  She  knew 
that  his  mind  was  only  on  the  child  who  lay  so 
still  under  his  hands — she  knew  that  all  the  in- 
tensity of  his  nature  was  concentrated  upon 
Lily.  As  she  watched  him,  deftly  obeying  his 
simple  directions,  she  gloried  in  his  skill — in 
his  surety. 

And  then,  at  last,  Lily  opened  her  eyes.  She 
might  have  been  waking  from  a  deep  slumber 
as  she  opened  them — she  might  have  been 
dreaming  a  pleasant  dream  as  she  smiled 
faintly.  Rose-Marie  had  a  sudden  feeling — a 
feeling  that  she  had  experienced  before — that 
the  child  was  seeing  visions,  with  her  great 
sightless  eyes,  that  other,  normal  folk  could 
not  see.  All  at  once  a  great  dread  clutched  at 
her  soul. 

"  She's  not  dying '?  "  she  whispered, 

gaspingly.  "  Her  smile  is  so  very — wonderful. 
She's  not  dying?" 

The  Young  Doctor  turned  swiftly  from  the 
bed.  All  at  once  he  looked  like  a  knight  to 
Rose-Marie — an  armourless,  modern  knight 


170  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

who  fought  an  endless  fight  against  the  dra- 
gons of  disease  and  pain. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  no ! "  he  answered. 
"  She  isn't  dying !  We'll  bring  her  around  in  a 
few  minutes.  And  now  " — a  great  tenderness 
shone  out  of  his  eyes,  "  tell  me  all  about  it. 
You  were  very  sketchy,"  his  gesture  indicated 
the  other  room,  "  out  there !  How  did  the 
child  really  get  hurt — and  how  did  you  come 

to  be  here?  How Why,  Rose-Marie. 

.  .  .  Sweetheart!" 

For  Rose-Marie  had  fainted  very  quietly — 
and  for  the  first  time  in  all  of  her  strong  young 
life. 


XIX 
AND  THE  HAPPY  ENDING 

THEY   were    sitting   together    at   the 
luncheon  table — the  Superintendent, 
Rose-Marie,  and  the  Young  Doctor. 
The  noontime  sunshine  slanted  across  the  table 
— dancing  on  the  silver,  touching  softly  Rose- 
Marie's  curls,  rinding  an  answering  sparkle  in 
the  Young  Doctor's  smile.    And  silence — the 
warm  silence  of  happiness — lay  over  them  all. 

It  was  the  Young  Doctor  who  spoke  first. 

"  Just  about  a  month  ago,  it  was,"  he  said 
reflectively,  "  that  I  saw  Lily  for  the  first  time. 
And  now  "  —  he  paused  teasingly  —  "  and 
now " 

Rose-Marie  laid  down  the  bit  of  roll  that 
she  was  buttering.  Her  face  was  glowing  with 
eagerness. 

"  They've  come  to  some  decision,"  she  whis- 
pered, in  a  question  that  was  little  more  than  a 
breath  of  sound,  "  the  doctors  at  the  hospital 
have  come  to  some  decision  ?  " 

The  Superintendent  was  leaning  forward 
and  her  kind  soul  shone  out  of  her  tired  eyes. 
"Tell  us  at  once,  Billy  Blanchard!"  she  or- 
dered. "At  once!" 

171 


172  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

Quite  after  the  maddening  fashion  of  men 
the  Young  Doctor  did  not  answer — not  until 
he  had  consumed,  and  appreciatively,  the  bit 
of  roll  that  he  had  been  buttering.  And  then — 

"The  other  doctors  agree  with  my  diag- 
nosis," he  told  them  simply.  "  It's  an  extra- 
ordinary case,  they  say;  but  a  not  incurable 
one.  The  shock — when  Jim  kicked  her — was 
a  blessing  in  disguise.  Not,  of  course,  that 
I'd  prescribe  kicks  for  crippled  children! 
But" — the  term  that  he  used  was  long  and 
technical — "but  such  things  have  happened. 
Not  often,  of  course.  The  doctors  agree  with 
me  that,  if  her  voice  comes  back — as  I  believe 
it  will — there  may  be  a  very  real  hope  for  her 
hearing.  And  her  eyes  " — his  voice  was  sud- 
denly tender — "  well — thousands  of  slum  kid- 
dies are  blind — and  thousands  of  them  have 
been  cured.  If  Lily  is,  some  day,  a  normal 
child — if  she  can  some  day  speak  and  see,  and 
hear,  it  will  be " 

The  Superintendent's  voice  was  soft — 

"  It  is  already  a  miracle !  "  she  said  simply. 
"  It  is  already  a  miracle.  Look  at  Jim — work- 
ing for  a  small  salary,  and  liking  it!  Look  at 
Bennie — he  was  the  head  of  his  class  in  school, 
this  month,  he  told  me.  And  Ella " 

The  Young  Doctor  interrupted. 

"  Ella  and  her  mother  went  to  church  with 


AND  THE  HAPPY  ENDING         173 

us  last  Sunday,"  he  said.  "  Rose-Marie  and  I 
were  starting  out,  together,  and  they  asked  if 
they  might  go  along.  I  tell  you  " — his  eyes 
were  looking  deep,  deep,  into  the  eyes  of  Rose- 
Marie  and  he  spoke  directly  to  her,  "  I  tell 
you,  dear — I've  learned  a  great  many  lessons  in 
the  last  few  weeks.  Jim  isn't  the  only  one — 
or  Bennie.  Lily  isn't  the  only  nearly  incurable 
case  that  has  found  new  strength.  .  .  ." 

Rose-Marie  was  blushing.  The  Superin- 
tendent, watching  the  waves  of  colour  sweep 
over  her  face,  spoke  suddenly — reminiscently. 

"  Child,"  she  said — and  laughter,  tremulous 
laughter,  was  in  her  voice,  "  your  face  is  ever 
so  pink!  I  believe,'*  she  was  quoting,  "  *  that 
you  have  a  best  beau ' ! " 

The  Young  Doctor  was  laughing,  too. 
Strangely  enough  his  laughter  had  just  the 
suggestion  of  a  tremor  in  it. 

"  I'll  say  that  she  has !  "  he  replied,  and  his 
words,  though  slangy,  were  very  tender.  "  I'll 
say  that  she  has !  "  And  then — "  Are  we  go- 
ing back  to  the  little  town,  Rose-Marie,"  he 
questioned.  "  Are  we  going  back  to  the  little 
town  to  be  married  ?  " 

The  blush  had  died  from  Rose-Marie's  face, 
leaving  it  just  faintly  flushed.  The  eyes  that 
she  raised  to  the  Young  Doctor's  eyes  were 
like  warm  stars. 


174  THE  ISLAND  OF  FAITH 

"  No,"  she  told  him,  "  we're  not !  I've 
thought  it  all  out.  We're  going  to  be  married 
here — here  in  the  Settlement  House.  I'll  write 
for  my  aunts  to  come  on — and  for  my  old  pas- 
tor !  I  couldn't  be  married  without  my  aunts. 
,  •  .  And  my  pastor ;  he  christened  me,  and 
he  welcomed  me  into  the  church,  and  " — all  at 
once  she  started  up  from  the  table,  "  I'm  go- 
ing up-stairs  to  write,  now,"  she  managed.  "  I 
want  to  tell  them  that  we're  going  to  start  our 
home  here  " — her  voice  broke,  "  here,  on  our 
own  Island.  .  .  ."  Like  a  flash  she  was 
out  of  the  door. 

The  Young  Doctor  was  on  his  feet.  Lunch- 
eon was  quite  forgotten. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  softly,  and  his  face  was 
like  a  light,  "  I  think  that  I'll  go  with  her — and 
help  her  with  the  letter!"  The  door  closed, 
sharply,  upon  his  hurrying  back. 

The  Superintendent,  left  alone  at  the  table, 
rang  for  the  maid.  Her  voice  was  carefully 
calm  as  she  ordered  the  evening  meal.  But 
her  eyes  were  just  a  bit  misty  as  she  looked 
into  the  maid's  dull  face. 

"Mrs.  Volsky,"  she  said  suddenly,  "love 
must  have  its  way !  And  love  is " 

The  maid  looked  at  her  blankly.  Obviously 
she  did  not  understand.  But,  seeing  her  neat 


AND  THE  HAPPY  ENDING         175 

apron,  her  clean  hands,  her  carefully  combed 
hair,  one  could  forgive  her  vague  expression. 

"  What  say  ?  "  she  questioned. 

The  Superintendent  laughed  wearily. 
"  Anyway,"  she  remarked,  "  Ella  likes  her 
work,  doesn't  she?  And  Jim?  And  Bennie 
is  going  to  be  a  great  man,  some  day — isn't 
he  ?  And  Lily  may  be  made  well — quite  well ! 
You  should  be  a  glad  woman,  Mrs.  Volsky ! " 

Pride  flamed  up,  suddenly,  in  the  maid's  face 
— blotting  out  the  dullness. 

"  God,"  she  said  simply  and — marvel  of 
marvels — her  usually  toneless  voice  was 
athrob  with  love — "  God  is  good !  "  She  went 
out,  with  a  tray  full  of  dishes. 

Her  chin  in  the  palm  of  her  hand,  the  Su- 
perintendent stared  off  into  space.  If  she  was 
thinking  of  a  little  blond  child — lying  in  a  hos- 
pital bed — if  she  was  thinking  of  a  man  with 
sleek  hair,  trying  to  make  a  new  start — if  she 
was  thinking  of  a  girl  with  dark,  flashing  eyes, 
and  a  small,  grubby-fingered  boy,  her  expres- 
sion did  not  mirror  her  thought.  Only  once 
she  spoke,  as  she  was  folding  her  napkin.  And 
then— 

"  They're  both  very  young,"  she  murmured, 
a  shade  wistfully.  Perhaps  she  was  remem- 
bering the  springtime  of  her  own  youth. 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


FICTION,  JUVENILE,  ETC. 

JAMES  LIVINGSTONE  STEWART 

Vice-President  Western  China  University 

The  Laughing  Buddha 

A  Tale  of  Love  and  Adventure  in  Western 
China.  Illustrated,  $2.00 

A  story  of  Western  China,  crowded  with  happenings  of 
an  exciting  sort.  As  a  tale  of  pure  adventure,  it  is 
marked  by  more  than  ordinary  merit.  It  has  high  ethical 
value  by  reason  of  the  unusually  extensive  knowledge  of 
Buddhism  and  Taoism  possessed  by  the  author.  A 
story  well-worth  reading  for  its  own  sake,  and  a  source 
of  authentic  reference  concerning  the  manners,  customs, 
habits,  religions  and  conditions  of  living  obtaining  to-day 
in  Western  China. 

ISABEL  BROWN  ROSE 

of   the   American   Marathi  Mission,   A.B.C.P.M., 
Sholapur,  Bombay  Presidency,   India 

Red  Blossoms 

A  Story  of  Western  India.  $1.75 

A  story  of  modern  missionary  life  in  Sholapur,  the 
area  of  Western  India  in  which  the  American  Marathi 
Mission  pursues  its  activities.  Mrs.  Rose  writes  out  of 
a  twelve-year  experience  of  this  particular  field,  and 
while  the  characters  of  her  story  are  made  purposely 
fictitious,  the  problems  and  conditions  she  describes  are 
true  in  every  detail. 

MERTON  L.  HARRIS 

The  Golden  Mirage 

A  Romance  of  the  Great   South- West.      $2.00 

A  spirited  story  in  which  the  hazards  of  fortune,  in  a 
country  where  men  become  millionaires  over  night,  are 
described  in  a  graphic  and  gripping  manner.  Mr.  Harris' 
story  is  crowded  with  action.  A  well-sustained  love  in- 
terest runs  through  the  entire  story  together  with  a  wealth 
of  stirring  events  incident  to  life  on  a  newly-discovered 
oil-field  where  the  earth  gushes  out  liquid  gold. 

ANNIE  M.  BARNES 

Author  of  "The  Lost  Ivory   Caravan,"  Etc. 

The  Lost  Treasure  of  Umdilla 

A  Tale  of  Adventure  in  the  Dark  Continent. 

Illustrated,  $1.50 

"A  tale  of  adventure  in  the  Dark  Continent.  The  ex- 
periences are  related  in  a  fashion  that  holds  the  attention 
from  the  beginning.  The  adventure  note  is  ever  present, 
but  the  missionary  appeal  is  in  the  foreground.  It  is  a 
splendid  book  for  boys  and  girls." — Christian  Union  Herald. 


FICTION.  JUVENILE,  ETC. 
HOWARD  AGNEW  JOHNSTON,  PA.  P.,  P.P. 

The  Son  of  Nicodemus 

A  Story  of  Christ  for  Young  People.  Illus.  $1.50 

"It  is  warmly  commended  to  young  people.  In  these 
days  we  need  to  be  brought  back,  to  a  vision  of  Jesus 
Himself,  as  He  lived  and  worked  among  men."  —  Christian 
Endeavor  World. 

WINIFRED  SCUTT 

The  Children's  Master 

The  Old,  Old  Story,  Retold  for  Little  Folks. 
Illustrated  by  the  Author,  $1.25 

Miss  Scutt  has  succeeded  in  accomplishing  a  delicate  and 
difficult  piece  of  work.  In  each  instance,  a  child  is 
brought  face  to  face  with  Jesus,  and  made  a  witness  of 
one  of  the  important  events  which  marked  the  journey. 
He  began  at  Bethlehem,  and  ended  at  Bethany. 

NELLIE  HURST  Author  of 

"Best   Bible    Tales"    (Old    Testament) 

The  Best  Bible  Tales 

(New  Testament.)  Illustrated,  $1.50 

A  companion  volume  to  the  author's  former  book.     M 
Hurst   belongs   authentically,   to   the   world    of    the    young; 

ild; 


she  is  an  accredited  citizen  of  the  Kingdom  of  the  Chi 
of  that  fact  the  work  she  has  done   in  this   book  is  proof 


Introduction  by  John  Martin 
AMY  LE  FEUVRE       Author  of  "Probable  Sons,"  etc. 

The  Little  Tots'  Story  of  Jesus 

"The  Most  Wonderful   Story  in  the  World." 
With  colored  jacket  and  illustrations,  $1.50 

A  new  edition,  with  colored  jacket,  of  Miss  Le  Feuvre's 
"The  Most  Wonderful  Story  in.  the  World"--which  has 
already  received  a  cordial  reception  from  the  press. 

GERTRUDE  S.  TROWBRIDGE 

Author  of  "Faith  at  Work,"  etc. 

Those  Wilson  Children 

A  Tale  of  Harum-Scarum  Days.  Illustrations 
by  Joseph  Cummings  Chase.  Illustrated,  $1.50 

A  jolly,  rollicking  story  written  around  the  fortuitous 
adventures  of  a  tomboyish  family  of  a  college  professor 
who  is  not  overburdened  with  a  superabundance  of  thU 
world's  goods. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000036618     7 


